


Tempest Tossed

by McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:44:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: Stranded on an island in the Bermuda Triangle, Severus and Remus must cope with the elements and each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2006.

Blinded by briny water, Severus crawled out of the ocean, his drenched clothes and the shifting sand beneath his hands making the task slow and arduous. Wave after wave buffeted him as he dragged himself out of the water, coughing and spitting. His stomach rebelled until the water he had swallowed surged back up, burning his throat as he heaved violently. 

Finally, after what seemed like ages, he managed to drag himself out of reach of the waves, and he flopped onto his back, lying in a limp sprawl on the sand. It was, he thought, little short of a miracle that he was alive, but then again, he had survived against seemingly impossible odds before. Severus Snape had an uncanny knack for surviving whether he wanted to or not, but part of him wished he had drowned with the rest of the passengers. 

He was tired of life, tired of struggling through day after day, tired of existing instead of living, subsisting on a diet of anger and bitter gall. But for whatever reason, whether it was his own dogged survival instincts or Fate, he had lived, and now he had to figure out what he was going to do. 

The sun beat down, making him feel like a beached fish baking on the sand, and after a while, he groaned and forced his limbs - aching after battling the sea - to move. The tree line seemed so very far away, but he rose to his feet and began staggering toward it through sheer force of will. The shade was a blessed relief, and he leaned against a thick tree trunk, resting as he began to assess the situation he found himself in, his mind already at work in spite of his body's protests. 

There were other people lying on the beach further down, but they weren't moving even when the waves washed over their faces, and he assumed they were dead. He would have to do something with the bodies; in this heat, they couldn't be left out in the open for long. He would have to levitate them -

A sudden thought occurred to him, and he reached into the pocket where he kept his wand only to find it empty. 

Bugger. 

He grimaced, remembering how he had used it to cast a cushioning charm around himself as the plane went down. He remembered the storm and the lightning, but the impact and what happened immediately after were a blur; he supposed he had lost his wand while he was in the water. It was stored away in Davy Jones' locker by now, which meant he only had his meager repertoire of wandless magic to call on. Beyond that, he was little better off than a Muggle. 

"Damn and blast!" 

Anger fueled his surge to his feet, adrenaline carrying him back to the beach. As soon as he left the shade, he was assaulted by blistering heat again, and he tore savagely at the buttons of his jacket, shrugging it off and tossing it aside. It was suitable for England's milder weather, but it was too thick and heavy for this tropical heat. He wouldn't need it again until the sun went down and things cooled off. He had lost one shoe, thus he saw no point in keeping the other; his remaining shoe and both socks were stripped away, and he rolled up the legs of his trousers, exposing his pasty skin to the relentless sun. 

With grim resolution, he checked each body on the shore, methodically looking for a pulse. As he thought, they were all dead. Some didn't even need the press of his fingers against skin already growing clammy for him to know; one look at the battered and broken remains was enough. He rolled those who were face-down onto their backs and folded their arms, and he closed glassy, empty eyes as needed, going through the motions like an automaton. Touching corpses didn't bother him; he'd seen death too often to be squeamish at the sight of it. Nor did he care about these people; he didn't know them. He offered them a little dignity in the wake of their shocking, violent death because he had seen too much disrespect, and for all his faults, he still considered himself better than that. 

Given the small size of the plane making the trip from Miami to Bermuda and the severity of the damage to the plane, he suspected he was the only survivor. Surely if his _traveling companion_ \- his lip curled in a sneer at the mere thought - had survived, he would have seen some sign of life by now. But he hadn't, which he took to mean he was utterly alone, and given the storm had blown the plane off-course, he could probably give up hope of a rescue party. 

Joy. 

But at least he wouldn't be forced into the awkward position of having to endure a stranger's company or worse, be expected to offer comfort in the aftermath of trauma. 

Amid the bodies were scattered a few suitcases that had washed up, and he began sorting through them, looking for whatever he could use now or later. He emptied one of the larger ones and stored whatever he found that he wanted in it, leaving the rest to litter the shore. Chances were, he would have all the time he needed to clean up the rubbish, and he was more concerned about finding a way to dispose of the bodies than of the luggage and its detritus. 

He collected toiletries and all the men's clothes that looked suitable for someone his size, and he took whatever books and other means of entertainment he could find as well. Some of the books appeared to be appalling wastes of paper, but after a while, even _Sweet Savage Storm_ might look good once he had depleted all his other options. He found bottles of Muggle medication as well, and after some deliberation, he discarded all of it. He didn't know enough about Muggle medicine to use any of the medication properly, and he trusted his own knowledge of herbology and potions far more than Muggle quackery anyway. 

As he made his way along the beach, dragging his suitcase along by its conveniently adjustable handle, he spotted a metallic glint in the distance, and as he moved closer, he realized it was part of the plane. Either it had broken off and crashed on the island, or it had washed up later, but either way, he was looking at a possible shelter. 

He slogged over, dropping his suitcase a short distance away. The nose of the plane, little more than twisted and scorched metal now, was out of place against this lush, verdant backdrop, and Severus couldn't repress a shiver as he looked at it, the broken remains of an artificial bird fallen out of the sky. He couldn't even muster derision for Muggles who presumed to conquer the skies since Wizards were little better, soaring around with naught but a stick of wood between their legs. He knew there was nothing inside that posed a threat to him, but he wished for his wand nonetheless. It was a measure of security that he had grown dependent on, and he felt almost as if he had lost a limb in not having his wand at hand. 

Peering into the wreckage, he saw several battered and torn seats, some with their mangled occupants still strapped in, and useless yellow oxygen masks dangling from their clear plastic cords. He checked the bodies for any signs of life just in case, but even if any of them hadn't been killed by the impact, the shock, blood loss and extensive damage would have done it shortly after. But the small kitchen near the cockpit was more or less intact, which was more than could be said for either the two flight attendants or the pilot and copilot. It didn't offer much more than packets of peanuts and cans of cola, but he gathered up what he could anyway, filling up a smaller bag he found in one of the overhead compartments that hadn't popped open and spilled its contents over the ocean. 

He looted the wreckage for as much food as he could find, and he took away a few more books and clothes from what little carryon luggage remained, as well as pillows and blankets provided by the airline. He bypassed the in-flight magazine, however, since he had already riffled through it in order to avoid talking to his seat mate during the flight. He also donned a pair of sunglasses he found in one of the bags; he had never needed sunglasses before, but he needed protection from the bright glare now. 

There were bottles of juice and water amid the cola, and once he had hauled out everything he could, he opened a bottle of the water and guzzled it, grateful that it was still cool. The remains of the plane might serve as a temporary home until he had done some scouting, but not while there were bodies in it. Severus didn't think he could sleep in such company. But the shadows were growing long, and the air was growing cooler as the afternoon faded. He needed a fire, which meant gathering wood. He didn't want to wander around in the jungle after dark without a torch, and he knew he couldn't dispose of the bodies in the plane and still have time to find firewood. 

Disposal would have to wait until tomorrow, he decided. He was tired and shaky, and he didn't know how much longer his adrenaline-fueled energy would hold out. With any luck, the tide would carry away some of the bodies on the beach, and he would have less to deal with tomorrow. Satisfied with that decision, he dropped the bag of loot from the plane by his suitcase and ventured into the jungle to find some dry wood. Once he had gathered up an armful, he returned to the beach and surveyed the area for a likely spot, choosing someplace away from the plane yet still protected by shade. 

Gathering stones was his next task, and he arranged them in a small circle before gathering anything he could find that looked dry enough to serve as tinder before piling up a few pieces of wood. Pointing one finger in lieu of his wand and fervently hoping Fate wouldn't choose this moment to be even more of a bitch than she already had been that day, he attempted a fire-starting spell - and nearly collapsed with relief when the kindling sparked and burst into flame. In a matter of minutes, he had a fire, the familiar crackle and warmth offering a bit of familiar comfort in the wilderness. 

He dragged his suitcase and carryon bag over to the fire and pulled out two of the thin airline blankets, folding one to sit on and wrapping the other around himself as he huddled by the fire. He had stuffed his jacket in his suitcase once he began looking through the luggage, but he didn't have the energy to look for it now. He opened a bag of peanuts and nibbled them, not really hungry but knowing he needed to eat something. It was shock, he knew, and it would wear off soon enough. He didn't want to think about everything he needed to do or the fact that his clothes were damp, sandy and uncomfortable; it could all wait until tomorrow. For now, though, he was content to eat the peanuts and sip a bottle of grapefruit juice and stare blankly into the fire. 

In the dark, with the sounds of frogs and night birds surrounding him, he realized exactly how alone he was. He didn't know what else lived and lurked on this island, but he was fairly certain it wasn't human. He had always subscribed to the belief that Hell was other people, but that had been when he had a choice about whether to be around people or not. At Hogwarts, he had been able to socialize with or avoid his colleagues as he chose, and after he fled the school, he had still had human contact with Voldemort's followers. Even during his time in prison, he had been in his own cell but not alone. There had been other inmates whom he heard and occasionally saw. 

This was the first time he had ever been completely alone without any possibility of respite, and he wasn't certain he was as glad of that as he ought to be.

A rustle in the distance jolted him out of his reverie, and he sat up straight, trying to peer into the darkness and discern what lurked there. He didn't bother asking "who's there". For one thing, he knew he was alone on the island, and for another, he had seen too many hapless idiots get themselves blasted to hell and back by asking such stupid questions when confronted with strange noises in the dark. Instead, he grabbed a sturdy branch from his fire, brandishing it as he rose to his feet, prepared to face whatever it was. Most animals were afraid of fire and would flee at the sight of it waved in their face...

"Hullo? Severus, is that you?"

...Then again, most animals weren't thickheaded dolts like Remus Lupin, who obviously hadn't seen hapless idiots get blasted for asking stupid questions. 

"Lupin, what the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, his free hand clenching into a fist at his side. 

From between the trees emerged a shadowy figure, and as it moved closer, Severus could see Lupin's familiar form and amused expression. "I should think that would be obvious, Severus. We were on the same plane, after all," Lupin replied in that infuriatingly mild tone that set Severus' teeth on edge. 

"I know that," Severus ground out. "I mean, what are you doing on my island?" 

" _Your_ island?" Lupin's eyebrows climbed to his hairline. "If you were trying to get here all along, Severus, you could have just used a parachute and spared the rest of us the trouble of going down with you." 

"You know what I mean!" Severus was shaking now, the tumultuousness of the day catching up with him at last and spilling over onto Lupin. "There are God knows how many islands in this area, Lupin. Go and find one of your own and leave me alone!" 

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Lupin's smile was benign as he slid his hands into his pockets, although Severus noted with satisfaction that he hadn't approached Severus' little camp without invitation. "For one thing, I'm not a very good swimmer, and for another, we are meant to stay together." 

Severus' scowl darkened at the reminder that he had been saddled with a watchdog - or in this case, a watch wolf - since the Ministry didn't trust him to go alone. "I hardly think it matters now," he snapped. "By the time anyone finds us, Lucius Malfoy will be long gone from Bermuda, and the trail will be cold, and that is only _if_ anyone finds us. Considering who we are, there might not be much incentive to look," he added. 

A surge of satisfaction rose within him when he saw Lupin blanch. Severus might be a convict turned over to Lupin's custody for the duration of a single mission, but werewolves weren't that much more in favor with the Ministry or the general public than he was. Lupin was an exception due to his role during the war, but Severus didn't doubt that the same Ministry who had sent them off together to track down Lucius and try to bring back Draco alive to testify against him would find one of them about as expendable as the other. 

"You're right," Lupin conceded with a little smile and shrug. "On all counts. However, since it looks like we're the only survivors, it makes sense for us to remain together, doesn't it? Safety in numbers and all that." 

"Safety against what?" Severus asked tartly. "The only animal I've encountered so far is you." 

Lupin continued to smile as if the barb had bounced right off his thick hide. Or his thick skull, Severus thought with a twinge of annoyance. "I agree that rescue will be a while in coming, if it comes at all. Thus we may as well set about making this island as comfortable as possible, and two sets of hands are better than one for that. We have a lot to do, Severus, and you'll find I don't shy away from hard work." 

Severus regarded him silently across the campfire, loath to admit Lupin was right, but knowing he was. The bottled water and packets of peanuts wouldn't be enough; he needed to find other food and water sources. There were the bodies to be disposed of, a steady supply of wood for the fire to maintain, a shelter to think about... The list went on. Severus knew he could do it alone, and he _would_ do it alone if need be, but Lupin was alive and here, and the pragmatic side of him urged him to make use of Lupin no matter how much he hated the man and didn't want to suffer his presence. 

"I don't suppose you've found any food or water," he said at last, tossing the stick he held back onto the fire and took his seat on the blanket again. 

Fiery sparks flared up in the darkness between them, illuminating Lupin's relieved smile as he approached and sat down across from Severus. "No water," he said. "I noticed some banana trees while I was exploring, though." He glanced at Severus' luggage and at the bottle of juice and empty packet at Severus' knee. "It seems you've had some luck." 

Grimacing with annoyance, Severus fished a bottle of water and a handful of peanut packages out of his bag; he tossed the bottle first, waiting until Lupin caught it neatly to fling the peanuts at him. "There," he said tersely. 

"Thank you." Lupin wasted no time opening the bottle and guzzling the water, although like Severus, he only nibbled the peanuts. Likely they would both be starving in the morning, but for now, Severus wasn't interested in food. "Where did you find this? Did it wash up on shore?" 

"No, the front of the plane is just over there." Severus turned and pointed, not surprised Lupin hadn't noticed. In the pervasive darkness, the wreckage blended in, just another black silhouette against the stars. "I went through it and got what I could from there and from a few suitcases that washed up." 

"I didn't think that looked like the one you brought," Lupin said, nodding at the suitcase near Severus. 

"It isn't. The airline lost my luggage," Severus replied dryly, and Lupin let out a startled bark of laughter. "I haven't seen yours either. I suppose there's a chance we might find ours washed up somewhere around here, but it's far more likely that they're gone." 

"Perhaps we can take a look tomorrow, maybe see about how large this island is," Lupin suggested. 

"I think the first matter of business should be disposing of the corpses," Severus replied. 

"Corpses?" Lupin looked vaguely ill at that, and Severus shot him a contemptuous look. 

"Weren't there any washed up where you were?" he asked. "There are bodies in the wreckage over there and all along the beach. Unless we get lucky and the tide drags most of them out to sea, we're going to have to do something as soon as possible. Burial is an option if we can fashion suitable tools, but that will take time, and they've already been out in the sun for one full afternoon. Depending on how many are left in the morning, I favor cremation." 

"That seems so..." Lupin trailed off with a helpless gesture, and Severus scowled across the campfire at him. 

"So what?"

"So impersonal." Lupin tossed the empty packet onto the fire, turning his gaze to the flare of embers as they devoured the foil. "They're people. They died a horrible, tragic death. They deserve something." 

"They're dead," Severus retorted, his tone flat and matter of fact. "We have limited resources. We can't waste time digging individual graves, saying a few words, and carving headstones for people whose names we don't even know." 

"I wasn't suggesting we do all that." Lupin screwed the lid on his water bottle and put it aside, although whether it was out of habitual frugality or because he was consciously aware that they needed to conserve reusable resources, Severus couldn't guess. "Just... something more than tossing them in a pile and setting them alight like they're nothing." 

Put like that, Severus didn't think it was a good idea either. He was focused on what needed to be done, but they could still turn a necessary cleanup into some kind of respectful ritual. "What about a pyre, then?" he said. "Just don't expect me to give the eulogy." 

"Why not?" Lupin gave him a quizzical look. "You're very glib when you want to be." He held up one hand as if to forestall whatever rebuttal Severus might be about to offer. "I don't mean that as an insult. I just mean you have a creative way with words when you're inspired." 

Severus peered at him with narrowed eyes, dissecting what he had just said in search of any possible reason to take offense. "In certain situations, perhaps," he replied. "In this one, no. I will leave that duty to you." 

"Very well." Lupin's mouth quirked, as if he found something amusing about the situation, but Severus had never claimed to understand Lupin's sense of humor. "I don't suppose there's anything we can do tonight?" 

"No." Severus poked at the fire and then added some more wood. "Not unless you fancy stumbling around in the dark and either running across a wild animal or breaking your leg." With grudging reluctance, he retrieved another pillow and two blankets, and he tossed them over to Lupin. "Here. They're thin, but it's better than nothing." 

"Thank you." Lupin caught the bedding deftly and busied himself with spreading one of the blankets next to the fire. Yawning, he stretched out and settled onto the narrow pillow, pulling the second blanket over himself and looking for all the world as if he was perfectly cozy. 

Then again, perhaps this wasn't much worse than some places Lupin had been forced to sleep in before, Severus mused. He finished off his juice and closed the bottle to keep bugs from crawling inside, and then he too settled between his blankets. Exhaustion was setting in, making him weak and shaky, and while he knew Lupin was probably going through the same thing, he didn't want to show his own weakness, not to Lupin of all people. 

It would have been better if he had been marooned with a stranger rather than this man with whom he had shared a tumultuous history, but Fate was, as ever, a fickle bitch, taking delight in heaping misery on Severus' head. Now more than ever, he felt certain he was the butt of some colossal, cosmic joke, and he was damned tired of it. 

With a weary sigh, he closed his eyes, the sounds of the jungle suddenly seeming much louder and more foreign to his ears. Every rustle and croak was magnified, but his body was too drained to keep him in a perpetual state of alert. Enough was enough, and at this point, Severus didn't care if he was somehow eaten by a polar bear; he just wanted a respite. He didn't fight the oblivion creeping up on him; he wanted to sleep in hopes of waking up in the morning and discovering this had all been a horrible nightmare. 

He knew he wouldn't, of course, but it made drifting off a far more relaxing, hopeful process.

* * *

When Severus awoke the next morning, he felt as if he'd been gone over by an entire fleet of bludgers. His neck was stiff, his back was sore, and the sand in his clothes was chafing his skin and making him feel unclean. Groaning, he considered rolling over and pulling the blanket over his head, but when he peeked out at the world, he saw Lupin was gone, and pride wouldn't allow him to laze about if Lupin was already up and working. 

Forcing himself upright, he groped blearily for a bottle of orange juice and wished for a cup of tea with every swallow. Eggs would be nice too, he thought wistfully. Maybe a couple of sausages and some toast with marmalade... His stomach growled, and he sighed as he pressed his hand against it. Unless they managed to find some fruit today, they would be feasting on those wee packets of peanuts again, which wasn't nearly as satisfying a thought as sausages and eggs. 

"Good morning, Severus!" 

The cheerful greeting was, Severus was certain, justifiable grounds for manslaughter. It was for the best that his wand had got lost, otherwise, Lupin would find himself hexed to hell and back just for being so damned chipper at ungodly hours of the day. 

"There is nothing good about it as far as I am concerned," he retorted, flinging off his blanket and rising to his feet slowly, feeling like an old man as his bones creaked and his joints ached in protest. 

It didn't help that when he looked around, he saw Lupin was returning to their camp bearing an armload of firewood, as bright-eyed and alert as if he'd spent the night on a comfortable mattress in luxurious surroundings. Resentment surged within Severus, and he shot Lupin a venomous glare.

"I'm stuck on an island with none of the amenities of civilization, and my only companion is _you_. It would have been better if I had died in the crash along with those poor sods," Severus continued, sweeping one arm in an expansive gesture that encompassed the remaining bodies on the beach. 

"Severus, you don't mean that." Lupin gazed at him with visible concern. He shook his head as he began to stack the wood under the protective canopy of a nearby tree. "Life is always better. There's always a chance we might be rescued." 

"Oh, really." Severus folded his arms and gave Lupin a withering glare. "What kind of life will I have either way? Here, I face decades of eking out an existence, trapped on this island as surely as if I were in prison. If we _are_ rescued, I'll be tossed back in prison as soon as we return home. Either way, the rest of my life is nothing to look forward to." 

"You might be pardoned since you agreed to help track down Lucius Malfoy," Lupin said, but he sounded uncertain as if he didn't have much more confidence in what he was saying than Severus did. 

"It's far more likely they'll blame me for the crash to facilitate Lucius' escape." A black cloud of melancholy mixed with anger settled over him, a familiar cloak that he had worn for years. "They said I might be given a reduced sentence if I succeeded. I would say our presence on this island speaks of failure." 

He was as trapped now as he had been since he was seventeen years old and had foolishly agreed to accept the Dark Mark. That one choice had followed him, marking him literally and figuratively every day for the rest of his life, and he had given up hope of ever being free. The only consolation about his present situation was that at least this prison allowed him to walk in the sun. 

"It's all your fault," he said, glaring at Lupin. "I wanted to go by boat. You were the one who insisted on flying." 

"We would have been caught in the storm either way," Lupin replied, his tone calm and pragmatic, and Severus wanted to throw something at him, preferably something heavy. "Look, I'm no more happy about the situation than you are, but we're here, there's nothing to be done about it unless you fancy taking a long swim, so we might as well make the best of it." He finished stacking the wood and then turned to Severus, dusting off his hands. "Shall we built a pyre, if you're done sulking?" 

Severus glared at him, wishing the Killing Curse could be transmitted through eye contact. "Fine!" he spat. "Built your damned pyre. I'll handle the bodies." 

"I could help-" 

"I don't want your help!" 

"All right." Lupin held up both hands in a conciliatory gesture and backed away. "I'll let you know when I'm finished." 

"You do that." Severus continued glaring at Lupin until he was out of sight; only then did he sink to his knees, shaking with rage over this fresh hell he found himself in and silently cursing Lupin, Lucius Malfoy, the Ministry, Potter, Albus, and everyone else he could think of. Anger bubbled like thick, hot bile in his stomach, and he wanted to scream until his throat was raw. But he swallowed those screams, knowing it was pointless, and he let his anger fuel him again, pushing himself to his feet and storming to the wreckage of the plane. He had a job to do, and by God, he was going to do it, just as he had always done what he had to do no matter what obstacles blocked his path. 

The stink hit him before he reached the wreckage, the sickly sweet stench of rot, and he clamped one hand over his nose as he turned away, stumbling back to his makeshift camp before his stomach could empty its meager contents. Grimly determined, he rummaged through his suitcase until he found a thin tee shirt with some Muggle band's name emblazoned on the front - the Grateful Dead, appropriately enough, which gave him a small amount of morbid amusement. Tying it securely around his face, he took a few deep breaths to make certain he wasn't about to asphyxiate himself, and then he returned to the plane. 

Stepping inside, he moved to the first row of seats, a swarm of flies rising from the bodies and buzzing around him as he unfastened the safety belt of the corpse on the aisle seat, and then he stepped back, grimacing with distaste at the thought of carrying it. He stretched out his hand and exclaimed, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The body twitched and lifted, but without his wand to focus and channel his magic, the spell failed, and the body slumped against the seat, motionless. 

"Damn!" Severus stared at the corpse, wondering if it was worth the effort of trying again, trying harder, but after deliberation, he decided it wasn't. He would expend his energy for nothing, and if he wasted so much time and energy on one body, he wouldn't have anything left for the rest. Given that the tide hadn't carried away as many as he had hoped, it was best if he resorted to manual labor to complete this task if he wanted any hope of not collapsing before it was done. 

Resigned, he began to work, losing himself in the mindless state he always escaped to when faced with a job he didn't want. He went through the motions of unbuckling, lifting, and carrying them down to the beach where Lupin was bringing wood for his pyre again and again until the wreckage was empty, and then he plodded down to the beach to begin anew. 

Lupin was stacking logs to form a lopsided bier; he had stripped off his shirt, and his skin was gleaming with sweat, the muscles in his arms and back bunching and flexing as he worked. Severus stopped and stared before he realized he was staring and shook himself out of his stupor. Lupin rested both hands at the small of his back, twisting as he stretched, and then he caught sight of Severus and turned, bracing his fists on his hips. Severus' throat went dry at the sight of pebbled nipples in a nest of curling chest hair, grey hair mixed with dark brown, and he scowled, blaming it on the heavy lifting he had been doing. 

Lupin's body wasn't that much to look at, after all, Severus thought with a disdainful sniff. He was thin and lanky, the jut of his hipbones visible above the sagging waistband of his trousers, and Severus suspected if he had seen this sight before the end of the war, Lupin would have been downright scrawny. His chest was marred with scars, and there was a knot of scar tissue on his right shoulder, and Severus had not stared for any reason other than morbid fascination with Lupin's disfigurations. 

"Aren't you finished yet?" Severus demanded peevishly. "I've brought everyone from the plane." 

"Not quite." Lupin studied him for a moment, concern flaring in his blue-green eyes. "Did you put on any sun screen?" he asked. "You'll need it if you're going to be out here on the beach. I got some from-" 

"I'm fine," Severus cut him off tersely. 

He had taken all the bottles of sun screen he could find from the washed-up luggage along with the other toiletries; although his sallow skin tone would give him a slight advantage in that he was more likely to tan than Remus, who was fair as milk, he wasn't immune to burning. All the sun screen in the world wouldn't do him any damned bit of good in the bottle, and he hadn't remembered to slather any on before beginning to work. Pride, however, refused to let him admit weakness in spite of the fact that parts of him were already starting to sting thanks to his time in the sun yesterday combined with today's exposure, and he stalked off down the beach instead, intent on bringing the bodies furthest away closer to Lupin's pyre. 

Once he was finished with the bier, Lupin fetched a tee shirt from Severus' luggage to tie around his nose and began helping Severus with the bodies, making the job go more quickly, although Severus refused to acknowledge it. The sun was high in the sky by the time all the corpses were stacked on the bier, and they stood beside it, sweating and panting beneath their makeshift masks as they surveyed the results of their labor. 

Severus pushed his sweaty hair off his forehead impatiently, hating the feel of gritty sand clinging to his skin, but even bathing in the sea wouldn't help get it off; it would only leave him coated with a salty residue, and he longed for fresh water. His stomach was growling and gnawing at his insides, and he was starting to feel shaky from hunger and exertion, but he forced himself to stand tall beside the pyre while Remus gave his improvised eulogy. 

"These are our companions," Remus said, his voice quiet and somber. "We cannot give them names, but we honor their deaths. Our paths converged briefly and now have divided once more. May the journey they take now be more peaceful than the one before."

It took their combined efforts to set the pyre alight, and once the fire was blazing, they stepped back and watched the pyre burn in silence, smoke and flames rising higher. It was far enough from the edge of the jungle that there was little risk of the fire spreading even if the wind shifted, so there wasn't a need for either of them to remain, not when there were many other jobs waiting to be done, and both of them needed some water lest they risk dehydration. But Severus stood and watched, thinking how easily it could have been him on the pyre with the rest of them and wondering anew why it hadn't been. 

"Perhaps someone will see the smoke. That would be a good thing to come out of this," Lupin commented, turning his head to scan the horizon for any sign of a plane or boat, but there was none, and Severus didn't hold out much hope. 

It was the smell that finally drove them away, and they returned to their campsite to remove their masks and retrieve bottles of water and some peanuts, although the scent of burning flesh had put Severus off food for the time being. He wanted to strip off his clothes and toss them on the pyre as well; they reeked of sweat and rot, and he doubted he would ever feel clean wearing them again, but he didn't want to strip in front of Lupin, either. 

While Severus was still debating the issue, Lupin spoke up. "What next?" he asked, sounding unusually subdued, as if the sobriety of the funeral still weighed on him. "Shall we look for food and water? Dig a latrine? Build a shelter?" 

"We can live in the wreckage for a while, so I'm not concerned about building a shelter straight away," Severus replied, guzzling down the rest of his water. It was tepid, but he didn't think he had ever drunk anything so refreshing before in his life. "Food and water are my priorities," he added with a challenging look at Lupin, who merely nodded agreement. 

"I think we'll be able to find plenty of fruit," Lupin said. "Water, though... I don't know. I'd feel much more at ease if we could find a source of fresh water." 

"As would I." Severus glanced around and let out a grumbling sigh. "But even if we find it, what are we going to carry it in? Or boil it in? We can't risk drinking it straight from the source." 

"Perhaps there's something in the plane." Lupin tipped back his head and emptied the remainder of his peanuts into his mouth, crunching them as he headed off to the wreckage. 

Severus watched him go, too weary to get up and follow. Let Lupin investigate on his own, he thought, resting his head in his hands. He wanted - needed - to sit and rest for a while. He wasn't accustomed to so much physical labor, and it had taken a lot out of him, although he supposed being so hungry wasn't helping. He was getting the weak and shaky feeling that accompanied going too long without food, and he loathed it, not wanting to admit there was anything that could get the best of him. 

"I found something!" Lupin was smiling when he returned to camp with a carryon bag slung over one shoulder and holding up a cracked coffee pot like it was the Triwizard Tournament Cup. "It won't help much with carrying water, but we can boil water in it." 

As much as Severus wanted to say something scathing to undermine Lupin's triumph, he couldn't. He was too relieved to see that damned coffee pot, and the only thing he could muster was a gruff, "It's cracked." 

"Maybe we can fix it." Covering the crack with his hand, Lupin focused on the pot with intense concentration. "Reparo!" 

Severus found himself holding his breath as Lupin lifted away his hand, letting it out in a rush when he saw the crack was gone, and the pot looked as good as new. Finally, something was going right for a change, but Severus couldn't allow the moment of glory to last. "That's all very well and good, but it won't be of any use to us unless we find a source of fresh water to begin with," he pointed out.

Lupin's good cheer appeared undaunted as he carefully placed the pot on his pillow, and when he straightened and looked at Severus again, he was still smiling. "Well, I suppose we'd best start looking, then," he said. "We can use this bag in case we find some fruit, and we can store our empty bottles for bringing back water, too." 

"Fine." Severus raked his hair back again as he stood up, annoyed with the lank, salty mess his hair had become. It was naturally oily to begin with, and the sweat and salt water weren't helping. 

"I found something else, if you want it." Lupin dug something out of his pocket and held it out, and Severus saw a fuzzy pink band with a nauseatingly cute and cheerful white plastic bunny attached to it in Lupin's palm. 

"Is this a joke?" he demanded, scowling at Lupin, who shook his head quickly. 

"No, I noticed your hair was getting in your way, and I thought you might use it, that's all. I couldn't find anything less... pink." 

Severus peered at him, searching for any hint of mockery in Lupin's face, but there was none, and he took the hair tie with reluctance, holding it between his thumb and forefinger as if it were something distasteful. He tugged and twisted until the plastic bunny came off, and he tossed it into the embers of their campfire before scraping back part of his hair and tying a topknot. His scalp still itched, but at least it was no longer falling in his face, and with all the manual labor facing him, he was pleased to have one less thing encumbering him. 

Finding fruit wasn't difficult; once they dressed - Lupin put his shirt back on and Severus pulled on a pair of socks and trainers - and set out on their exploration excursion, Severus spotted several different varieties of fruit, some of which he was fairly certain wasn't supposed to be growing in the area. It was when he spotted a vine of pumpkins peeping out of the underbrush that he knew for sure, and he grabbed one, holding it up for Lupin to see. 

"Didn't I tell you?" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Pumpkins don't belong here." 

"Severus, we're in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle." Lupin took the pumpkin and examined it, turning it over and over in his hands. "You know the stories as well as I do. This place isn't normal. It's a mystery to both Muggles and wizards alike, and nothing works as it should here, not magic or technology. It's probably for the best that we lost our wands. There's no telling how trying anything more complicated than starting a fire or mending a pot might have backfired on us here." 

Severus scowled as he took back the pumpkin, not wanting to admit Lupin had a point. Given where they were, they probably ought not expect things to work normally, and given it was considered a dangerous area by wizards, the likelihood of anyone being willing to attempt a rescue for the sake of a werewolf and a convicted murderer were even more slim. 

Banked anger rose up anew and boiled over within him, and with an enraged snarl, he hurled the pumpkin against the nearest tree, watching it splatter with grim satisfaction. Lupin took a hesitant step toward him, one hand lifted, but Severus spun away and began marching through the jungle again, not wanting to see the pity he knew must be in Lupin's eyes. 

They walked in silence, the rustle of their movements through the thick foliage punctuated by bird calls and the buzz of insects zooming by. Tiny stinging bugs feasted on their sweat while mosquitos feasted on their blood, and Severus snarled as he swatted at them, wincing when he slapped at his pinkened flesh to kill a particularly big mosquito. The next time he spotted an aloe plant, he stooped to pluck several leaves, stuffing most of them into Lupin's bag but keeping one aside to break open and smear on his sunburnt skin while they walked. He waited for Lupin to say "I told you so", but to his credit, Lupin remained silent. Perhaps Severus' show of temper had made him think better of it. Or perhaps it wasn't in Lupin's nature to gloat. The thought rose up unbidden, and Severus squashed it viciously. 

He kept hoping he would hear the sound of running water amid all the birds and bugs - even a tiny stream would be welcome - but his straining ears heard nothing. He was on the verge of giving up and suggesting they turn around so they could make it back to camp before dark when in the distance, he heard a faint roar, a sound that could possibly be the rush of a waterfall, and he whirled, wide-eyed. 

"Do you hear that?" he asked, but Lupin's face was already alight, giving him the answer he needed. 

"It sounds like it's coming from that way," Lupin replied, pointing, and they both began to run, sprinting through the jungle as if nothing was in their way. 

Severus' lungs were threatening to collapse when they finally burst into a clearing and found the source of the sound - a waterfall emptying into a huge pond surrounded by mossy rocks and lush foliage - and they stood and stared. Lupin's expression was reverential, and Severus imagined he looked much the same, thankful as he was to have found this place, a welcome oasis. 

With a joyous whoop, Lupin dropped his bag and tugged off one shoe and then the other, tossing both aside before starting to strip off the rest of his clothes, and Severus gaped at him with growing horror. 

"Lupin, what the devil do you think you're doing?" 

Lupin shrugged out of his shirt and let it drop, pausing just before unfastening his trousers and giving Severus an ingenuous look. "I'm going swimming," he said in a tone that implied it ought to be perfectly obvious to anyone with half a brain. "I'm covered in salt and sand, and we now have a perfect place to bathe. I just wish we had some soap," he added in a wistful tone, and Severus backed away, waving both hands in a vehement denial. 

"Fine - you bathe. I'm going back to camp. Fill up the bottles once you're done." 

"For heaven's sake, Severus, you're as filthy as I am, and I can't imagine the idea of washing off doesn't appeal to you too." Lupin braced his fists on his hips, fixing Severus with a look that was half exasperation and half amusement. "We're both grown men. If you see something you haven't seen before, throw your hat at it." 

With that, he resumed undressing, and Severus turned away, uncertain. He wasn't fond of the idea of undressing in front of Lupin. He had hated undressing in front of others since his school days, too self-conscious from all the mockery of his scrawny body and knobby knees, but the lure of a bath was strong. 

"I'll turn my back, if you like," Lupin called out, and Severus heard the telltale splashes that indicated Lupin was wading into the pond. 

He waited a few moments and then he sneaked a peek over his shoulder, relieved when he saw Lupin was waist-deep in the water and did indeed have his back to Severus. 

"You'd turn your back on me?" he called derisively, curling his fingers in the front of his shirt. "I could drown you, you know. Aren't you worried about being trapped here with a murderer?" 

"I'm not worried about being here with _you_ ," Lupin replied, dunking himself underwater and resurfacing with a gasp. "It's cold!" He shook his head, spraying droplets every which way from his drenched hair. 

"Why not?" Severus poked at the elephant that had been in the room between them since their journey began. Lupin hadn't even insisted on keeping restraints on him during the journey as the Aurors suggested, and he had been surprised, certain Lupin wouldn't pass up the chance to humiliate him. 

Lupin glanced at him over one shoulder, shooting him a look that implied perhaps that being out in the sun had fried Severus' brain. "I was there, Severus. At your trial. I heard Aberforth's testimony, and I heard about Albus' memories in the pensieve. That's enough for me. Yes, you're a murderer, but you aren't a traitor. The war is over, and there isn't any vital need for me to sacrifice my life to give Harry a shot at Voldemort, so I figure I'm safe." 

Severus glared at him, annoyed that Lupin was being so damned reasonable about the whole thing; he hated it when Lupin did that. "There could be a volcano god on the island requiring a sacrifice." 

"Hopefully not a virgin sacrifice, or we're fucked," Lupin said amiably, lifting off his feet to paddle inexpertly around a bit - and giving Severus a glimpse of the pale curve of his arse in the process. 

Severus turned his back hastily, his scowl deepening, but after a moment, he began unfastening his shirt, stripping off his clothes with swift efficiency, including the pink hair tie. He edged towards the pond, picking his way carefully over the mossy rocks and easing into the water, keeping one eye on Lupin the entire time for any hint of peeking or mockery. 

When he was finally in the water up to his shoulders, he called out. "All right, you can look now." 

Lupin turned, treading water, and he grinned impishly. "You're letting me see your naked shoulders? Severus, you trollop. You'll be flashing your ankles next, and I'll be forced to ravish you." 

"Shut the hell up," Severus growled, but Lupin only laughed and paddled away, splashing noisily. 

He really wasn't a good swimmer, Severus noted. If it hadn't meant risking Lupin seeing more of him, Severus might have shown off; he was a much better swimmer, and in spite of whatever snide comments his former students had made about the greasiness of his hair and his seeming aversion to soap and water, the truth was that Severus quite liked being in water. He had a sudden flash of memory of his mother laughing and calling him a "water baby" when he was very young, and he scowled and immersed himself, scrubbing viciously at his scalp to help push that memory aside.

Although it was with grudging reluctance that he agreed with Lupin on wishing for soap - he had found several bottles of something called "body wash", which he assumed was some fancy Muggle version of liquid soap - just being able to rinse off was a relief. They took turns standing beneath the waterfall and letting the water sluice over them, washing away the grit and grime while the other turned his back, and by the time they headed for shore, Severus' fingers were pruny, but he felt much cleaner. 

His clothes were still filthy, however, and they reeked, and he was loath to put them back on. He glanced at Lupin, amused to see Lupin holding up his shirt between his thumb and forefinger, grimacing at it in distaste. Gathering up his own clothes, Severus headed back to the water and began rinsing them out piece by piece, scrubbing them against a rock for good measure. After a moment, Lupin followed suit, and even though it meant slogging back to camp in dripping wet clothes, Severus considered it worth the price. 

Next time, he thought, he would come back with soap and shampoo and a clean set of clothes. He might be stuck on a deserted island with none of the creature comforts he was accustomed to, but that didn't mean he intended to be uncivilized.


	2. Chapter 2

Severus grumbled to himself as he dipped another bottle into the pond and then straightened, wincing as his back protested. He wasn't a young man, and he'd never had to do this much walking or manual labor before in his life; it was taking its toll in aches, pains and twinges that he'd never experienced before, but he thought some of it could be avoided if Lupin weren't such a stubborn idiot. He had suggested to Lupin that they pick up and move camp closer to the waterfall for convenience's sake, but Lupin was adamant about remaining near the beach in case help arrived. 

It had been four days since their arrival on the island... or was it five? Severus was finding it increasingly difficult to remember. The pocket watch his grandfather had left him had been confiscated by the Ministry when he was arrested, and he hadn't thought to take a timepiece from any of the bodies before the mass funeral. Lupin didn't own a watch, and he hadn't thought to take one either, thus they were left without any means of keeping track of time. 

Lupin had begun cutting a notch in a tree trunk for each day they were there, but Severus didn't see the point of that. He had resigned himself to the fact that he was going to spend the rest of his life here, and even if by some miracle a search party did arrive, he wasn't certain he would allow himself to be rescued. The island was a prison, but it was a large one, and he had more to look at than stone walls and more to occupy himself with than staring at said walls. 

In the past few days, he had shimmied up trees to gather fruit, encountered exotic animals he'd never thought to see outside of a zoo - although he was more than happy to view them from a _distance_ and let Lupin play Mighty Hunter if he wanted to - and proven he was capable of living in the wilderness. That he had shrieked like a girl when he awoke one morning to find an iguana perched on his chest, staring at him and flicking its tongue out lazily, was something he chose to forget. 

He had fallen into the role of gatherer, and it was his responsibility to find fruit and safe plants and fungi for them to eat. He had also been gathering a stock of medicinal plants and herbs, using plastic cups scavenged from the plane's kitchen to mix and mash simple remedies such as a soothing balm for his sunburn and a healing ointment for shallow wounds since they had accumulated numerous scrapes, scratches, and mosquito bites during their treks through the jungle.

Lupin was the hunter, although at this point, the only thing he was hunting consistently was fish, and that was because Severus had given up trying. He'd used a pocketknife to sharpen a piece of bamboo and tried to spear fish close to shore, but his efforts had been unsuccessful, and he had stormed off in a snit when Lupin had laughed and asked whether Severus was trying to spear the fish or beat it into submission. 

It didn't help Severus' temper when Lupin had managed to catch two fish shortly after, one for each of them; pride demanded that he refuse to eat it, but the smell of the fish roasting on a spit over the campfire changed his mind soon enough. His body needed the nourishment, and for once, practicality won over pride. 

They took turns fetching water from the pond; it was a tedious task, involving a trek from camp to the pond and back with a bag full of plastic bottles they had designated as carrying bottles, boiling the coffee pot full of water, and then pouring the water into the bottles they had designated as drinking bottles to minimize the risk of contaminating boiled water with unboiled water. Repeat ad infinitum. Every time it was his turn to get the water, Severus wished their camp was closer to the pond, or that they had a larger container to carry water in. The only good thing to come of it was that between all the walking and climbing, Severus' legs were growing stronger, his calves gaining some muscle definition so he no longer looked as if he were walking around on a pair of twigs. 

Bored with the routine, Severus decided to explore the area a little; ever since finding a water source, they had bumped exploration lower on their priority list in favor of gathering food, keeping themselves hydrated, sorting through all the washed up luggage once more before piling it up for disposal, and planning a permanent shelter. The plane kept them dry when sudden showers or a storm blew in, but there wasn't enough room for them to stretch out and sleep comfortably anywhere. The problem was finding a place that wouldn't flood when it rained, but which was still close enough to the beach that they could spot any plane or boat that might come along. Lupin was being picky, and Severus was being petulant because he wanted to move closer to the pond, thus they couldn't discuss the subject without a row erupting, and they had called a tacit truce for the time being while they focused on stockpiling supplies.

Severus dropped the bag full of empty bottles by the pond and set off, wanting to familiarize himself with the area since it had become an integral part of their continued survival. He picked his way slowly along the side of the cliff over which the waterfall poured, steadying his passage by leaning on the solid rock wall. The ground was uneven, and gnarled tree roots poked up, just waiting to catch the foot of the unwary, but Severus was careful-

-until he flung his hand out to lean against the wall only to have his hand fall through a curtain of vines into the empty air, and he stumbled, cursing as he tumbled to the ground. 

His shoulder throbbed where he landed on it, but he forgot about the ache when he rolled over and got a good look at his surroundings. A cave! He had found a cave! 

Eager to explore, he hauled himself to his feet and brushed himself off, ignoring his sore shoulder as he conjured a handful of dancing blue flames to illuminate his path and moved deeper into the cave. It was cool and damp, but there was no guano on the walls and floor to show evidence of bats occupying the space, which gave him some hope it might be habitable. The passageway was narrow, but soon it widened and opened into what looked like a den, but if something had been inhabiting the cave, it was long since gone, and Severus rejoiced at his find. 

The cave was close to the pond, which meant they wouldn't have as far to go to collect water, and it would be a drier and more snug place to sleep when it rained. In Severus' estimation, it would be far superior either to the plane or to any shelter they might build out of bamboo, especially considering they had no tools and would have to make do with whatever broken limbs they could find. 

Smug and triumphant, Severus exited the cave, collected the bag and hurried back to camp, glancing around impatiently for Lupin as soon as he arrived. The campsite was deserted, but he spotted Lupin out in the water up to his thighs, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. Thanks to judicious application of sun screen and Severus' sunburn balm, his fair skin was turning tan, tinged with bright pink only on his shoulders, cheeks and nose, giving him the look of a perpetual blush. In contrast, his hair seemed to be turning lighter, and he had taken to tying it back with a bit of cloth ripped off the bottom of a tee-shirt as a makeshift bandana while he worked. 

As Severus moved closer, he could see Lupin was peering into the water with an air of concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out. Lupin raised his fishing spear, intent on his prey...

"Oi, Lupin!" 

Severus took malicious glee in watching Lupin jump and flail in the water, startled by the unexpected cry. He supposed it hadn't been the most practical thing to do since if Lupin didn't catch any fish, they would be having an all-fruit dinner, but Severus wanted to see the annoying bastard fail just once. 

"What is it, Severus?" If Lupin was irritated with Severus for scaring him, it didn't show on his face as he waded to shore and stood a small distance away, his toes sinking into the wet sand as the waves rolled in and out, lapping at his ankles. 

"I found a cave." Severus tipped his chin up proudly. "It's near the pond - a bit small, but there aren't any bats or other nasties living inside that I could see." 

"That's very nice." Lupin slid the fishing spear across his shoulders and hooked his arms over it as he regarded Severus with a pleasant but neutral look, as if he didn't quite fathom why Severus was telling him this. 

"Don't you see?" Severus explained in an aggrieved tone. "If we move in there, we won't have to bother trying to build some ramshackle shelter that will fall apart during the first big storm anyway. It will be dry, it won't flood, and we won't have to waste so much time going back and forth to get water." 

"But if someone comes looking for us, they won't be able to see us or find us," Lupin pointed out. "If we stay close to the beach, we'll be able to see a ship or a plane if it approaches, and they might be able to spot our fire." 

" _If_ ," Severus pointed out, scowling with annoyance. "And it's a considerable 'if' at that. You know as well as I do that our chances of being rescued are slim and getting slimmer with each passing day. We may as well accept the fact that this island is our home, and we must make the best of it." 

"Odd to hear you speak of making the best of something, Severus." Lupin regarded him with the same mild neutrality, and Severus got the distinct impression that he was witnessing Lupin dig in his heels - an unusual occurrence. Severus was far more accustomed to watching Lupin bend like a reed. Of course, that behavior was probably reserved for Lupin's _friends_ , he thought with a sneer. Even Lupin wouldn't bother to be accommodating for Severus Snape. "However, I still have hope that we'll be found, and I would rather not leave the beach yet." 

"What if I don't want to be found?" The words burst forth before Severus could stop them, but at least he had the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of Lupin, who gaped at him, appearing astonished. 

"Don't want to be found?" Lupin shook his head, giving Severus a disbelieving look. "Surely you don't mean that." 

"I do." Severus drew himself up haughtily. "I've nothing to go back for." 

"But you've no magic to speak of, no reliable food supply, no bed - no indoor plumbing, for heaven's sake!" 

"I have freedom." 

Lupin stared at him silently for a long moment as if he couldn't think of a suitable response for that, and after a minute, he lowered his fishing spear and began poking holes in the sand with the sharp tip. "I think you're being unnecessarily pessimistic, Severus, not to mention foolish. If we go back there, we'll lose whatever chance we might have had of being found. No one is going to bother searching the jungle, especially if there's plane wreckage out in the open. They'll assume we're dead and move on." 

"I don't care!" Severus spat, bristling. "Stay on the damned beach if you want to. _I'm_ going to the cave, and if someone comes, you can tell them I'm dead, because I'm not going back there to be thrown in prison again." 

"They won't-"

"They will, and you damned well know it!" Severus moved, closing the distance between them, and he jabbed his forefinger into Lupin's chest, scowling fiercely. "We failed, which they'll use as an excuse to let me rot in prison. God knows what they'll do with you. The Ministry passed legislation not six months ago that makes an attack by a werewolf an offense punishable by death even if the victim survives. You damned well can't tell me the same Ministry that did that won't find a way to blame you for failing to capture Lucius and return Draco."

For the first time, Lupin wavered, looking uncertain, but then he tipped his chin up too. "That doesn't mean I want to give up on going back. I like civilization too much, and I've already done my time living in the wild. I was weary of it by the end of the war, and I'm not keen on spending the rest of my life like this." He looked away, raking one hand through his hair as if agitated, and Severus took perverse pleasure in seeing a crack in the mask at last. "I've had to scrape by my entire life, and finally when it looked like I had a chance to live like a normal person, _this_ happens." 

"Welcome to my world," Severus replied, his tone snide. If Lupin expected any sympathy, he was doomed to disappointment. 

Straightening, Lupin looked him in the eyes again, holding his gaze, and Severus could see unwavering determination in the blue-green depths. "I'm not going to the cave." 

"Fine!" Severus threw up his hands, disgusted. "I wash my hands of you, then. Stay here and rot on the beach waiting for your rescue party to come for all I care, but don't come crawling to me for a damned thing. You stay on your part of this island, and I'll stay on mine." 

"Now, Severus-" Lupin's eyes widened with alarm, and he stretched out a conciliatory hand to Severus, but Severus ignored it.

"Don't 'now Severus' me!" Severus rounded on him, nostrils flaring; he could feel heat rising in his face and knew he was probably turning red, but he didn't care. He was too angry and frustrated at Lupin's shortsightedness and stubbornness to back down now. "I'm done with you, Lupin. I never wanted to be stuck here with you in the first place. Do whatever you like, but leave me alone!" 

With a low snarl, he whirled and stormed back to camp, and he began gathering up everything he considered his, stuffing it into his suitcase as quickly as possible. He was aware of Lupin watching him, but he ignored it even when Lupin approached and sat cross-legged on one of the seats they had managed to work free from the plane and placed by the campfire so they could sit in comfort. 

"You don't have to do this," Lupin said quietly. "Just give it another week or so. If no one comes by then, I'll be glad to move to the cave with you."

It sounded like a perfectly reasonable compromise, but Severus didn't want to be reasonable. He was tired of being reasonable and doing what other people wanted him to do instead of what _he_ wanted to do. Life wasn't reasonable. It wasn't reasonable, and it wasn't fair, and he was tired of being trapped and boxed in and cornered in every damned aspect of his life by every damned person he knew, and he was not going to take it anymore, especially not from Remus damned Lupin. 

"No." He stuffed half the water bottles into his bag, zipped it, and yanked out the handle. "Fuck you. I'm leaving." 

"Severus, be reasonable-"

That word again! Severus clenched his fist around the handle of his suitcase, shaking with the effort of keeping himself from punching Lupin. 

"There's only one pot. How are you going to boil water?"

"I don't know!" Severus squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to think about practicalities right now; he just wanted to go anywhere that was away from Lupin. "I'll think of something. Just leave me alone!" 

"Here." Lupin rose and moved swiftly to pick up the coffee pot, and he held it out. "Take it." 

Severus stared at the pot as if it was a snake about to strike, and then he glanced up at Lupin, confusion roiling around in equal measure with anger within him. 

"Go on, take it," Lupin insisted, and suddenly, Severus snapped out of his stupor, knocking Lupin's hand away with a vicious slap. 

"I don't need your pity or your charity! I will manage on my own as I have always done. I don't need your help, and I don't need you. I don't need anybody!" 

He lifted one hand and pressed his fingertips against his forehead, feeling lightheaded from the heat and the rush of emotion; he had been too active and too overwrought, and he hadn't eaten enough, and it was finally catching up with him, but he didn't care. He would eat something when he was safe in his cave; right now, all he wanted was to get as far away from Lupin as possible. 

He saw Lupin reach out to him, visibly concerned, and he backed away, baring his teeth in a snarl. Whirling, he ran through the jungle, his suitcase jouncing along behind him as he fled, seeking the sanctuary of his cave where he could hide away, safe from Lupin, from the bugs and heat, from the entire world. Stumbling down the narrow passageway to the den, he dropped his suitcase and fell to his hands and knees, dry-heaving for what seemed like endless minutes until finally his stomach settled, letting him rest and breathe. 

Collapsing on the cool, damp floor of the cave, he closed his eyes against the throbbing headache that was building in intensity. He was exhausted, not only physically but mentally as well, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and stay in his cave forever. He was so tired of doing what he was told, of being forced and pushed, of being a servant and a prisoner. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been fettered in some way, and now, when it seemed he had finally gained a measure of freedom from the Wizarding world, he found himself stuck with someone else who wanted to do things their way and expected him to conform. 

No. Not anymore. Never again. 

As far as Severus was concerned, Lupin could go hang. Severus Snape was no one's servant anymore, and he intended to stay right here and carve out a life for himself on this island whether a rescue party ever showed up or not.

* * *

The next morning, Severus yawned and gave himself a good all-over scratching as he ambled out of his cave and headed to the latrine he had dug a discrete distance away. His joints were stiff from sleeping on the cold rock floor, but walking around a bit helped, and he considered a few little aches a worthwhile tradeoff for his independence. Returning to the cave, he fetched his toothbrush, toothpaste, and bottle of water, and then he headed to the pond to brush his teeth. It was an indulgent waste of bottled water, but brushing his teeth made him feel a little cleaner and more civilized, even if he had to use the toothpaste sparingly. 

When he reached the pond, he saw the coffee pot perched on a rock, and there appeared to be a slip of paper inside it. Frowning, he glanced around for any sign of Lupin, but there was none, and so he approached the pot cautiously and fished out the paper. It was a message scrawled on a torn off bit of notebook paper.

_We can share. You use it in the morning; I'll pick it up in the afternoon. Just leave it out where I can see it._

_RJL_

Lupin was being reasonable again, which was one of the most annoying things about him, but lacking any other recourse, Severus had no choice but to accept the offer. Otherwise, he'd risk making himself ill by drinking unboiled water that was teeming with God only knew what kind of bacteria and parasites. 

After brushing his teeth, he occupied his morning with building a new fire pit and sterilizing enough water to fill every bottle he'd brought with him; by the time he was finished, the morning was waning, and he decided it was time to absent himself before Lupin showed up. He went to find fruit and the plants necessary to make himself a fresh batch of sunburn balm, and when he returned, the sun was setting, and the pot was gone. Every morning thereafter, he found it on the same rock without fail, but there were no more slips of paper tucked inside, and he never heard or saw Lupin aside from the appearance and disappearance of the coffee pot. 

At first, Severus occupied his time by cleaning his cave. It had taken a long time using the simplest cleaning charm in his repertoire - the only spell that would work without mishap - but he applied his usual dogged persistence to the task, and eventually, his cave was spotless. Even if he'd had the proper tools, his carpentry skills were nil, but he managed to lash some logs together with lengths of vines and piled palm leaves on top as a cushion, and then he covered the lot with one of his blankets to make a bed. It was hard and lumpy, but it was better than sleeping on cold rock every night. 

After that, he turned to the books and magazines he had scavenged to amuse himself when he wasn't boiling water, hunting for crabs and oysters, or trying to improve his fishing skills, albeit on a different stretch of beach, away from Lupin's camp. 

Days passed slowly, and once he had established what comforts he could and had settled into a routine for gathering food, water, and firewood, he found he had more time to relax. He spent lazy hours floating and swimming in the pond during the heat of the afternoons or dozing on a warm rock, the roar of the waterfall a soothing, restful background noise lulling him to sleep. Time was meaningless, a stark contrast to his old life when he'd felt he never had enough time to do everything, much less just relax and stop thinking for a while. 

It was odd finding himself capable of shutting off his brain. Before, his mind had always been working as he tried to stay at least one or two steps ahead of everyone else, especially those who were out to get him, which consisted of everyone he knew and lots of people he didn't know. Now the only thing he had to think about was whether he'd boiled enough water for the day and if he had enough fruit and crab meat for his next meal. 

Although at first, his mind resisted; it was difficult to shed habits ingrained over decades, and it wasn't as easy to be alone as he thought it would be. Having someone else around meant having a distraction from his own thoughts, but without Lupin and without any complex strategy planning to be done, he had plenty of time to think and remember. 

He could no longer run away from his memories, and when he woke up for the second night in a row, sweating and screaming from a nightmare about the Astronomy Tower, he lay awake, the chill of the bleak hours of the night seeping into his bones and making him shiver until his teeth rattled. He was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep, and in the darkness, he curled up on the floor of his cave and raged and wept and damned Albus to hell and back for assuming he was strong enough to bear this burden. 

When dawn broke, Severus climbed up to the top of the waterfall and perched with his knees drawn up under his chin as he watched the sun rise. He hadn't slept, but he felt a quiet peace unlike anything he had ever known before despite his exhaustion. He still felt the pang of grief and guilt and loss, but it wasn't the constant gnawing ache it had been, and the fact that Potter hadn't wasted the time and opportunity Severus had bought him helped. 

The old man had been right, damn him. The wily old coot's plan had worked; it had left the stain of murder on Severus' hands and given him the weight of Albus' death to carry for the rest of his life, but it had worked, and that, he supposed, was all that mattered in the long run. He had served the greater good as he and Albus had planned, and it seemed so distant now, as if it had happened a lifetime ago.

He was letting go, and for Severus Snape, that was a novel experience indeed. 

It was less than a week after he left the beach that he emerged from his cave one morning to find two crates by the pond. They had been pried open, and he could see metal things stick out, glinting in the sun. Curious, he padded on bare feet over to investigate, and he knelt and peered into the first crate, reeling back in shock when he saw pots, pans, and assorted cooking utensils inside. In the second box were some tools, some things wrapped up in burlap, and a note on another slip of torn paper. 

_I've been exploring the island, and I found the wreckage of an old military plane. It was carrying supplies, some of which were still serviceable. I've divided them up. This is your share._

_RJL_

That night, Severus boiled three crabs in a cooking pot at once instead of having to do it one at a time in the coffee pot, and the next day, he began building some shelves out of the crates, eager to have a place to store his belongings in an organized manner rather than leaving them all piled up around the cave. It had offended his innate sense of order and tidiness not to have storage containers, but thanks to the crates, some logs, a machete, a hammer and a few nails, he was able to make himself a nice little case. It wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing piece of furniture he had ever seen when it was finished, but it worked, and it was sturdy, and that was all he cared about. 

For all intents and purposes, he was alone. Lupin didn't encroach on his territory - at least not while Severus was at home - and Severus was on his own to take care of and amuse himself. It wasn't an easy life; he hadn't realized how many comforts of civilization he took for granted until he no longer had them. He missed being able to brew complex potions; he missed being able to use magic beyond the simplest of charms. He missed hot food that hadn't been cooked over an open fire, and he thought he might cheerfully kill for a steak or even just a basket of chips with plenty of salt. He did, in fact, miss indoor plumbing quite a lot and having the option for a hot bath when he wanted one, but now that he had settled in and made his adjustments, he realized he wasn't miserable even without all the amenities of his former life. 

That too was a novel experience. He had lived in a perpetual state of anger and misery for so long that it felt strange not having a tight knot in his chest every waking moment. It almost felt as if something was missing, and sometimes he caught himself going still and trying to figure out what was wrong only to realize nothing was wrong. Nothing at all. 

One morning, he awoke to find another iguana in bed with him, although this one was burrowed under his blanket and pressed against his side rather than perched on his chest, which was a relief since he didn't fancy dying of a heart attack at his age. He shooed the creature out, but he awoke the next morning with a scaly bed partner once more, and after three mornings in a row, he was fairly certain it was the same lizard seeking refuge with him and soaking up his body heat each night. Fortunately, it didn't bring any friends or family with it, and Severus wondered if perhaps it was a loner like him. 

He named it Bingley and began feeding it fruit. 

He supposed Lupin was still marking off days on the tree, but Severus paid no heed to the ebb and flow of days other than scanning the night sky to watch the waxing of the moon. When it was half full, he began thinking of what he ought to do to prepare and protect himself during the full moon; the sensible thing to do would be to discuss the options, limited as they were, and try to devise some sort of plan with Lupin. But Severus didn't want to contact Lupin; he didn't want to give Lupin a foothold into his life again. He didn't want Lupin to think it was all right to drop by for a visit, he didn't want Lupin to think they had to live together or put aside their differences just because they were stuck on the same island, and he certainly didn't want to watch Lupin parade around in nothing but a pair of shorts that rode low on his hips and drew attention to the thin line of hair leading from his navel down below the waistband of said shorts. Really, some people had no sense of decency or decorum.

Thus when Severus was startled by what sounded like something rampaging toward his camp, and he groped for the machete, prepared to see what it was and whether he could kill and eat it before he tried running like hell - and in the back of his mind, he was amused at how much of his life centered around food and the procuring thereof when he'd never given it much thought before - he was more than a little dismayed to see Lupin stumble into view, one arm flung up to protect his face from the sting of branches as he pushed through the tangled foliage. 

"What the devil are you doing here?" Severus croaked, his voice rough and hoarse from disuse, and he realized this was the first time he had spoken aloud in days. 

"Severus... please..." Lupin tottered forward, moving close enough to the light from his campfire that Severus could see Lupin's eyes were glassy, and his face was bathed in sweat. He stretched out one hand imploringly to Severus - and then he pitched over face-first, lying in a limp sprawl on the ground. 

"Oh, bloody _fuck_." 

Tossing his machete aside, Severus strode over to Lupin, knelt, and turned him over, studying him closely. In spite of his profuse sweating, Lupin was shivering as well, and Severus examined him with clinical detachment, checking for swelling at his throat and touching his forehead and cheek in an attempt to estimate how high a fever he was running. From the heat Lupin was radiating, it seemed to be rather high, and up close, Severus could see how flushed Lupin was, the stain of hectic color in his cheeks having nothing to do with exposure to the sun.

Lupin was conscious but seemed on the verge of slipping into delirium, and Severus sighed, resigning himself to being saddled with Lupin's onerous presence once more. _Albeit temporarily_ , he thought as he struggled to heft Lupin to his feet and helped him over to the fire. As soon as Lupin was well, Severus would toss him out on his ear, and things would go right back to the way they had been. 

As he fetched a piece of cloth and a pot, he ran through his limited knowledge of diseases; healing wasn't his field of expertise, but he could think of a few possibilities. He doubted it was due to heat exhaustion; Lupin had always been careful to drink plenty of water and stay in the shade during the hottest parts of the day. They weren't in the right area for yellow fever, but given where they were, perhaps that didn't matter. It could be dengue, which would be far better than malaria, which would require medicine beyond Severus' ability to prepare. Severus was a brilliant brewer, yes, but his skill was hindered by the lack of ingredients and equipment, and there was only so much he could do if this proved to be anything more than a tropical fever. 

After filling the pot with water, he returned to Lupin's side and he dipped the cloth into the water, wrung it out, and began bathing away the sweat beaded on Lupin's face and neck, trying to keep the gesture as impersonal as possible. Lupin sighed and turned his head toward Severus, seeking out the relief offered by the cool water and soothing touch, and he moved his arm, curling his fingers weakly in the cuff of Severus' trousers as if trying to make certain Severus didn't leave him, or perhaps to assure himself that Severus was real and not a fever dream. Idly, Severus wondered how long Lupin had been sick and how desperate he'd had to become before he risked imposing on Severus. 

_Lupin could die_ , he thought, gazing down at Lupin's shivering form with growing alarm. All this time, the thought that Lupin was somewhere nearby was a tiny little comfort; he didn't want Lupin's company, but Lupin was _there_ , another person on the island, which meant Severus wasn't alone. Not really. If Lupin died, however, then Severus would be utterly alone for the rest of his life, and the thought made an icy lump form in the pit of his stomach. 

Lupin opened his eyes, and Severus could see the pain and fear in the blue-green depths as he gazed up at Severus. "Cold... S-so cold...." 

Glancing at the cave, Severus considered moving Lupin out of the night air, but it was cooler in there, and he couldn't build a fire unless he wanted to kill them both with the smoke. It was a tradeoff, he thought, but at least if they remained out here, Lupin could benefit from the heat of the fire. 

Moving quickly, he went to fetch all of his blankets and pillows, and he made a pallet by the fire, throwing some more wood on the fire to build it up. Carefully, he hooked his arms beneath Lupin's and shifted him onto the pallet, and Lupin mustered enough energy and presence of mind to help. Severus tucked the blankets securely around him, and he lay huddled beneath them, still shivering. 

The most expedient way to help warm Lupin was through body heat, but that would mean _touching_ him. Severus didn't like touching; it was too personal, too intimate. He wasn't accustomed to touching or being touched, and he hadn't lay with anyone for any reason in longer than he cared to remember. But he had a job to do, and the sooner Lupin was well, the sooner Lupin would return to his own camp and leave Severus alone. Severus had never shirked a job set before him, and he wasn't going to now, even if it did mean touching Lupin.

He let out a grumbling sigh to let the universe know exactly how put upon he was, and he nudged Lupin to roll onto his side facing the fire; burrowing under the covers, he stretched out and spooned up behind Lupin to warm his back. Immediately, Lupin gave what sounded like a contented sigh and nestled against Severus as if wanting to soak up his warmth the same way Bingley did. 

Only Lupin wasn't small with leathery skin covered in wee spines. 

Tucked beneath Severus' chin, Lupin fit against him in an annoyingly natural and perfect way. Lupin's hair brushed against his throat, feather-light touches bringing his skin to aching awareness of Lupin's proximity, and although it was sweaty and sticking to Lupin's cheek and neck, Severus still caught whiffs of floral shampoo. Lupin's arse clicked into place against Severus' groin as if it was meant to be there, which Severus tried very hard not to think about, but it was difficult when Lupin moved, shifting restlessly as he fell into a fitful doze, and Severus could feel the firm curve of Lupin's arse rubbing and pressing against him. His body was reacting in spite of his firm commands not to, and his traitorous mind taunted him with thoughts of what it might be like if Lupin wasn't ill. If Lupin was, in fact, naked and writhing against Severus, and Severus' cock was slick with lubrication, poised to claim-

No! 

Severus tried to move away and put some space between them, but Lupin whimpered and scooted backward, following him, and Severus resigned himself to his fate. In the morning, he would squeeze a few oranges and see if he could get Lupin to drink some juice and eat a bit of fruit, and he would try to cobble together something that might help bring the fever down, but in the meantime, he was stuck being a life-sized heating pad for a feverish werewolf with soft hair that smelled of flowers and a warm, pliant body that felt better than it ought to in his arms. 

He sighed and pulled the blankets higher until Lupin was covered up to his nose, and he draped his arm across Lupin's waist in the process, ignoring the happy little wriggle Lupin gave in response as he soaked up Severus' body heat. With a fever as high as it seemed to be, Lupin wouldn't remember tonight; likely, he wouldn't remember barging in on Severus at all, much less that he cuddled up with Severus and slept in Severus' arms, which was fortunate, because otherwise, Severus might consider bashing him over the head with a rock to help him forget. 

The last coherent thought Severus had before he drifted off was that he hoped Bingley wasn't cold and alone all night.


	3. Chapter 3

When Severus awoke the next morning, he felt the absence of Bingley's leathery little body snuggled up against him, and he cracked his eyes open, hoping for a sign of the iguana, but there was none. Lupin had scared him off, no doubt, and Severus silently cursed Lupin anew for the intrusion. He much preferred Bingley's company to Lupin's since at least Bingley was quiet and didn't annoy him or act reasonable at him. 

Not that Lupin was capable of doing much talking or acting reasonable at the moment. A glance showed that Lupin was still feverish, and he had rolled away from Severus and thrown off the covers in the night, having gone from chills to sweating. The best thing, Severus thought, was to try to give him some juice and immerse him in the pond. The water was cool, but not frigid, and it might help lower his body temperature. 

_And if all else fails, I can drown him_ , Severus thought sourly as he thought of wasting his entire day tending to Lupin. Not that he had any other pressing engagements other than his daily attempt to catch crabs and fish, but it was the principle of the thing. Lupin was supposed to be in perfect health so he could stay on the beach and leave Severus alone. That he wasn't was a great inconvenience to Severus. He supposed, grudgingly, that it was an inconvenience to Lupin too, but Lupin had the benefit of feverish delirium; for Severus, there was no such respite. 

Grumbling, he rose to his feet, wincing at the ache in his knees and back, and stretched languidly to work out the kinks in his joints. The first order of business was to see if he could find a means of cobbling together some kind of remedy that might help bring Lupin's fever down. Were he at home with all of his ingredients and equipment, it would be a simple matter, but here, he was reduced to common hedgewitchery, which was grating to a brewer of his talents. But he had neither the ingredients nor the equipment at his disposal to work his usual magic, thus he would have to rely on what raw materials were available and hope for the best. 

He didn't stray far from the cave, not wanting to move too far out of earshot in case Lupin awoke or took a turn for the worse, and he worked quickly. The military issue paring knife wasn't as finely crafted or magically efficacious as his rune-engraved shears for harvesting, but as long as it didn't mangle the stems, it would do. He gathered a few oranges to make juice for Lupin and a couple of bananas for himself while he was out, and then he returned to camp to put together his makeshift fever remedy. 

Lupin was still asleep, albeit fitfully so, and Severus didn't bother waking him up. There wasn't any point yet, and perhaps the rest was doing him some good. Severus peeled and squeezed the oranges, catching the juice in a glass, and then he approached Lupin at last, squatting beside the pallet and shaking his shoulder roughly. 

"Uh?" Lupin cracked his eyes open, and Severus noticed they were still glassy. 

"Here." He slid one arm beneath Lupin's shoulders and hefted him up, enduring the press of Lupin's sweaty body against him since Lupin seemed too weak to sit up without assistance. "Drink this." He lifted the cup to Lupin's lips, and Lupin parted his lips, swallowing the warm juice greedily as if it were a balm to his parched tongue. 

It stayed down all of five minutes, and Severus grimaced in disgust, thankful he had managed to turn Lupin away from himself so he didn't get spattered. With an aggrieved sigh, he lowered Lupin the pallet and fetched a pot of water to wash away the mess before it began to attract bugs, and then he set about making the herbal remedy, mourning the lack of a proper mortar and pestle. 

Without the right tools, it took longer than he liked, but when it was done at last, he mixed a dose in a bottle of water. A glance showed him that Lupin had dozed off again, and Severus decided it wouldn't hurt to take a few minutes to freshen up. If Lupin died in the time it took for Severus to brush his teeth, he might feel some small twinge of remorse, but otherwise, he was tired of morning breath and of feeling sticky from sleeping in his clothes.

He performed his morning ablutions swiftly and changed into a pair of swim trunks. The damned things were lime green with a large tropical flower print in fuchsia and turquoise blue, and he loathed them, but they were the only men's swim apparel he had found that weren't briefs, speedos or - he repressed a shudder at the memory - thongs. He brushed his hair and tied it back with the pink elastic band, and then he retrieved the medicated water bottle and returned to Lupin, ready to spend a few hours in the pond. 

Lupin roused enough to stumble over to the edge of the pond with Severus' help, and Severus waited until they were settled and Lupin was sitting up against a mossy rock before opening the water bottle and offering it to Lupin just a sip at a time. Perhaps, he thought, if Lupin didn't drink too much at once, it wouldn't come back up, and when five minutes passed without Lupin vomiting, Severus felt quite pleased with himself indeed. 

He brought a cloth as well, and he bathed Lupin's face and wrung cool water over his head in-between sips, and once the medicated water was half gone and Lupin was thoroughly drenched, Severus swam over to the waterfall for a quick shower, and then he took to swimming a couple of laps before returning to Lupin. He didn't know how long he went through the routine of sip, bathe, wring, swim, repeat, but after a while, he grew bored and left Lupin dozing while he went in search of a book. He didn't want anything he cared about getting wet, and he didn't want anything that would require much thought since he would be stopping and starting while he played nursemaid to a werewolf, thus he chose _Sweet Savage Storm_ , figuring that if it was as bad as it sounded, he could always throw it into the pond. 

Returning to the pond, he perched on the rock beside Lupin's and dangled his feet in the water as he flipped to the first page and began to read. It took all of three paragraphs before he was rolling his eyes, and he wished Lupin was awake and coherent; this was one time he wanted company so he could share the derision. 

By the end of the third page, he couldn't contain his scorn in silence. "Oh, for God's sake!" he exclaimed, no longer caring there was no one else conscious to hear. "I've never seen bosoms heave before in my life, and if I did, I'd be alarmed." 

He _wanted_ to throw the book into the pond, but morbid curiosity spurred him on, and he began to recite passages aloud. "'Her pale breasts trembled, and she tried in vain to wrench away from Storm's cruel, viselike grip, tears welling in her cerulean eyes as she pleaded for mercy she knew he didn't possess'. You know, for a book about a heterosexual couple, there's quite a lot about what this woman's breasts are doing. One would think that with a female audience, there would be more about Storm's willie." 

He turned the page. "Ah, there we are. The obligatory elephantine endowment. 'His turgid manhood throbbed and strained against the confines of his breeches, and as Storm ripped open the fastenings, it sprang free, massive and weeping. Harmony shrank back, terrified. She had never seen a man's naked flesh before nor known a man's touch, and she knew not how such a large member could fit inside her'. I hope you noted the deeply symbolic names, although I do wonder how this is meant to lead to a happily ever after. Rape isn't usually an effective means of beginning a happy and stable relationship, even if one is a pirate plundering his rightful booty." 

He turned the page. "Well, it fit. I suppose she'll gush buckets of virginal blood as Storm cruelly batters her reinforced hymen." 

He fell silent, engrossed in spite of himself, and for a few minutes, he forgot about Lupin until a raspy voice interrupted him in the middle of chapter two. 

"Well?" 

Startled, Severus nearly dropped the book, but he managed to keep a firm hold on it, and he glanced down to find Lupin gazing up at him, drawn and strained, but clear-eyed at last. Placing the book face-down beside him, Severus reached down and touched Lupin's forehead, finding it still warm, but it wasn't nearly as hot as it had been just an hour before. The fever had broken at last, and while it could have been the fever running its course, Severus preferred to give credit to his remedy, primitive as it might be. 

"Well what?" he demanded, picking up the remains of the medicated water and handing it to Lupin. "Here, drink the rest of this." 

Lupin accepted the bottle obediently and took a deep swallow. "Well, did she gush buckets or not?" 

"What?" Severus blinked, surprised that his commentary had permeated Lupin's fever haze. "Oh. Yes, of course. It was what proved her claims of virginity were true, and it threw Storm into agonized remorse the next morning when he sobered up. Not that he wanted to admit he was wrong, of course. He just sneered at her." 

"Not that that reminds me of anyone I know," Lupin murmured, giving Severus a knowing look, and Severus glared indignantly at him. 

"What?" 

"Nothing." Lupin smiled ingenuously, and then he finished off the water and put the bottle aside before sinking down with a weary sigh and immersing himself up to his chin. "What's going on now?" 

"Storm is threatening to make her walk the plank, and Harmony is weeping. Again. The woman is a regular watering pot." 

"Well, I suppose being ravished by a drunk pirate would have that effect on anyone." Lupin leaned his head back and looked up at Severus, his expression hopeful. "Will you read to me, please?" 

"You _want_ to listen to this drivel?" Severus was surprised by the request, and he peered at Lupin suspiciously, wondering if it was some kind of odd joke, but there was no guile evident in Lupin's face. 

"You've piqued my curiosity about poor Harmony and how things are going to work out with Storm," Lupin replied, reaching out to snag the cloth Severus had used to bathe his face. He wadded it up and put behind his head as padding, and then he closed his eyes. "Besides, your voice is soothing when you aren't yelling at me." 

Severus gaped at him, stunned into silence. There was a blistering retort to be made just so Lupin wouldn't think Severus could be cozened by flattery, but he couldn't think of what it was, and after a minute or so passed, he decided it was too late. Clearing his throat, he picked up the book again. "Very well," he said with enough grudging reluctance in his voice to let Lupin know Severus was conferring a great favor, and then he began to read. 

By the end of chapter three, his throat was dry, and his voice was weakening. It had been well over a year since he'd been in the habit of delivering lengthy lectures, and he was out of practice, his voice growing tired more quickly than it used to. He closed the book and looked down at Lupin, who still had his eyes closed, but his breathing showed he hadn't drifted off. 

"Are you hungry?" he asked, and without opening his eyes, Lupin shook his head. 

"I should probably try to eat something," Lupin said in a languid, sleepy tone that did _not_ evoke delicious little tingles at the base of Severus' spine. "I don't feel hungry, though." 

"You should try, yes," Severus said gruffly. He moved, intending to stand and offer to help Lupin out of the pond, but the feel of fingers around his ankle in the water stopped him, and when he looked down at Lupin again, he saw Lupin's eyes were open, his gaze fixed on Severus. 

"Thank you," Lupin said, tightening his grip on Severus' ankle. "I'm sorry for intruding after you told me to leave you alone, but..." He smiled wryly and gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I was afraid, and I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to die." 

"Everybody dies sometime," Severus said brusquely, trying to ignore the warmth of Lupin's fingers and the acute awareness his body suddenly seemed to have of Lupin's proximity. 

"I know." Lupin chuckled weakly. "I just didn't want to die _now_." 

"You've got a lot to live for, have you?" Severus arched one eyebrow, injecting derision into his voice and trying to avoid feeling any kind of sympathy, much less understanding, for Lupin's fears. "Lots of of untamed wilderness to conquer on this island?" 

"There's always hope of rescue," Lupin replied, and his mild demeanor made Severus want to hit him. "I won't give up on that." 

"Of course not." Severus curled his lip in a sneer. "You've got your little girlfriend waiting for you. I'm sure you can't wait to get back to her." He wanted to wrench his ankle free of Lupin's grasp - and why was Lupin still hanging on to him anyway? - but he didn't want to give Lupin the satisfaction of knowing he'd unsettled Severus. 

"I keep forgetting you've been away from the grapevine." Lupin chuckled again, the sound containing more than a trace of self-mockery, and Severus found himself leaning forward, wondering what juicy tidbit Lupin was about to impart. "Tonks and I broke up quite some time ago. It was a more or less amiable separation, but the time came when I had to admit the truth about myself." 

"What - that you're too old to be cavorting with nubile young women?" Severus asked scathingly. "Too poor? Too dangerous?" 

"Too gay." Lupin's smile was one of resignation. "I tried. I really did. But she said every time we had sex, I made her feel like she had cooties." 

"Cooties?" Severus' voice was faint, and he couldn't keep from staring at Lupin, horror and shock at war within him. 

"Her word, not mine." 

Severus opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He had no idea what to say, and his mind wasn't helping, having shut down the moment Lupin admitted he was gay. But Lupin couldn't be gay! _Severus_ was gay! Lupin was supposed to be straight so that every time Severus caught himself admiring Lupin's tight little arse in those shorts Lupin insisted on wearing, he could remind himself that Lupin was straight, and there was no point in looking. Now all he could do was remind himself that he hated Lupin and did _not_ want to have sex with him, shorts or no shorts, but that wasn't quite as convincing an argument as Lupin being straight and thus totally unobtainable was. 

"Severus? Are you all right?" Lupin was peering at him with evident concern, and Severus snapped himself out of his stupor. "I've shocked you." 

"It's just I never guessed..." Severus glanced away, wishing now more than ever that Lupin would let go of his ankle. 

"I wasn't particularly trying to hide it or deny it," Lupin said. "I just - wanted a normal life, and so many other things were working against me in that respect. I thought I could give it a go with Tonks and have a normal family, but no." His lips twisted with what looked like the closest thing to bitterness Severus had ever seen on Lupin's face. "I couldn't do it. I'm a wizard, I'm a werewolf, and I'm a homosexual. That is who I am." He glanced hesitantly at Severus, and Severus could see the apprehension in his eyes. "I hope that doesn't bother you."

 _Bother me?_ Severus thought, on the verge of mental hysterics. He was trapped on an island with Lupin, who was gay. For all practical purposes, Severus was the last man on earth, and yet Lupin still wouldn't want him, even if it meant remaining celibate for the rest of his life. No doubt celibacy was preferable to having sex with greasy old Snivellus. 

The very air around him seemed stifling and oppressive, smothering Severus until he could scarcely draw breath as his mind raced; he needed answers, he needed to know what to do to protect himself, and there was only one way he knew to do that. 

Drawing himself up, he radiated scorn as he peered down his nose at Lupin. "Why should it bother me? I don't give a damn what you do or with whom as long as you don't come near me." 

"Right." Lupin's jaw tightened, and - mercifully - he relinquished his hold on Severus' ankle. "You needn't worry. I'm no drunken pirate intent on ravishing an unwilling partner." The levity in Lupin's voice sounded forced, and Severus smiled with grim satisfaction; for now, he had the upper hand, and he would make damned certain he maintained it. 

"Good," Severus replied curtly as he tucked the book under his arm and climbed to his feet. "Stay there and try not to fall asleep and drown yourself. I'll be back with some fruit and some more water." 

"Thank you, Severus." Lupin sat up, the tightness in his expression fading. "I do appreciate all you've done for me." 

"I don't want your thanks, Lupin." Severus braced his fists on his hips and glared down at Lupin, wanting to quell all thoughts of gratitude and bonds forged during times of crisis before they could be fully formed in Lupin's soft, sentimental little brain. "What I want is for you to be well enough to take care of yourself. The sooner I see the back of you, the better." 

"Of course, Severus." Lupin's tone was quiet, almost docile, but Severus felt a niggling suspicion in the back of his mind that the easy-going acquiescence wasn't going to last. 

He had seen Lupin's stubbornness once before, and something told him he was going to see it again. 

Soon.

* * *

"'I will never consent to marry a brute like you!' exclaimed Harmony, her ripe breasts heaving with the force of her emotion. Her full lips were tremulous, and tears welled in her wide, sapphire eyes-" 

"I thought they were cerulean," Lupin interjected, glancing up from the pumpkin he was mutilating with Severus' paring knife. 

"They were," Severus said, glaring at him over the top of the book before lifting it up high enough to show that he was uninterested about why Lupin had asked him to bring back a couple of pumpkins from his usual morning forage for fruit, and what Lupin was doing with them now. "That was two chapters ago. Apparently it's against the rules to repeat an adjective in romance novels." 

"Just saying they're blue once and moving on isn't enough?" 

Severus lowered the book just enough that he could give Lupin a Look that implied Lupin's IQ was insufficient for tying his own shoelaces and forming complete sentences, but then he saw Lupin was grinning at him, and he disappeared behind the book again. 

"Perhaps the author assumed most of the audience hailed from Gryffindor and thus required regular reminders," he retorted. 

Instead of taking offense, Lupin chuckled and turned his attention back to whatever he was doing to the hapless pumpkin, and Severus pursed his lips in annoyance. Just once, he would like to crack that damned mask and irritate Lupin as he'd always been able to irritate every other Gryffindor in existence, including Lupin's friends. 

He had no idea how to go about it at the moment, however, and so he resumed reading instead. "Tears welled in her wide, sapphire eyes, but she stood strong and proud, determined to defy him. Baring his sharp, white teeth in a snarl, Storm grabbed her arm and hauled her against his broad chest." 

"They're going to have sex again, aren't they." Lupin tossed a triangular bit of pumpkin rind over his shoulder. 

Severus skimmed ahead a couple of paragraphs. "Yes." 

"Figures. I think they've had sex in every single chapter." 

"They have. Sometimes twice." Severus closed the book around his forefinger and watched Lupin for a moment as he began hacking away at the pumpkin again. 

"I wouldn't be surprised if they have sex in every chapter," Lupin said, swiping his forearm across his brow and blowing out a weary sigh. "I'm tired." 

"Then put down the knife and rest, you idiot." Severus shot him an aggrieved look over having to state the obvious. "Your fever only just broke yesterday. You'll need to rest at least two or three more days before you start exerting yourself." 

"I know." Lupin smiled a bit sheepishly, but he put down the paring knife and grabbed a cloth to wipe off the pumpkin innards on his hands. 

Severus found himself staring, mesmerized by the movement of the cloth circling and swiping those big-knuckled fingers. Lupin's hands looked strong and solid, a startling visual juxtaposition with the lean ranginess of his body, and Severus could imagine how those hands might touch him, the expanse of skin those big, gentle hands could cover... 

"I just wanted to do something for you to show my appreciation, and I thought I ought to do it before I'm banished again." 

Lupin was speaking, but it took a moment for Severus' mind to make sense of what he was saying, and Severus scowled as he shook himself out of his erotic reverie, annoyed with himself for thinking about Lupin's hands - or any other part of Lupin, for that matter - in that way. 

"What the devil are you doing for me with a pumpkin?" he demanded, curiosity getting the better of him at last. 

"I'm making a jack-o-lantern." Lupin smiled as if quite pleased with himself as he picked up the pumpkin and turned it around so Severus could see a carved out mouth, nose, and eye. The other eye appeared to be in progress. "I carved a couple for myself and put a preserving charm on them so they wouldn't rot, and I put light spell inside them and set them around camp after dark. It's rather nice having more than just the fire to light the area." 

"A jack-o-lantern?" Severus' eyebrows climbed to his hairline, and he wondered if somehow the whimsical spirit of Dumbledore had transferred itself to Lupin.

Lupin gave a little shrug, his smile faltering at the edges. "Just for fun. I even made yours with a frown since I thought you might like that better than a smiling one." He set it down on the grass beside his pallet. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back with me when I leave." 

"I don't want it." 

"Fair enough." An awkward silence fell, and after a minute or two, Lupin cleared his throat and gestured to the book. "They were about to have sex." He paused and then added, "Care to wager it'll happen in every chapter?" 

"Don't be stupid," Severus said, his voice dripping with disdain. "It would be impossible, not to mention implausible, for them to have sex in every single chapter." 

Lupin gave him a challenging look, one eyebrow raised. "Does that mean you'll take the bet?" 

Severus peered at him suspiciously. What kind of game was Lupin playing and why? Making a bet on such a trivial matter seemed so inane that there had to be an ulterior motive, but he couldn't figure out what it might be. "What possible stakes could we play for? Our money isn't of use anymore." 

"There are plenty of things, I imagine. Chores, for example, or you could make me promise to bring you two fish every day for a week if I lose." 

A-ha! Lupin wanted something from him. Severus gave himself a mental pat on the back for seeing this trap coming. "I assume you have your terms already in mind?" he asked. 

"Actually, no. I'd have to think about it. I don't think we have to decide now." He smiled again, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement, and Severus refused to acknowledge how appealing those laugh lines were. "Besides, if we don't decide now, it gives you more time to think of something truly evil to make me do if you win." 

Severus considered the proposition, weighing the options. On the one hand, he didn't think even a book of this poor quality could get away with having a sex scene in every chapter. Storm and Harmony had to rest sometime, and at some point, the plot - such as it was - would demand a chapter in which something other than fighting and sex occurred. Even if he was wrong, however, Lupin was too spineless to make Severus do anything awful or humiliating. Severus, on the other hand, was known for being awful and doing humiliating things to people, thus he could get away with it if he won, and Lupin wouldn't be at all surprised. 

It was, he decided, a win-win situation, and he nodded his acceptance. "Very well, I accept the bet. Meanwhile, neither of us will read ahead to find out who won." 

"Or rip out any pages," Lupin said, ignoring Severus' indignant glare. 

Severus was on the verge of issuing a blistering retort when Lupin suddenly went still, his gaze directed beyond Severus as if he had spotted something sneaking up behind Severus. Alarmed, Severus resisted the urge to whip around to see what had captivated Lupin's attention, but he felt the cold prickle of awareness down the length of his back, and he couldn't help but imagine a tiger, poised to rip him to shreds. 

"Be still, Severus," Lupin whispered. "There's an iguana lurking just behind you. If you grab the paring knife quickly enough, you could kill it, and we could have it for dinner instead of fish." 

Severus twisted around to see Bingley sprawled comfortably on a rock in the sun, and Bingley flicked his tongue out at Severus as if in greeting. With a quiet sigh of relief that Bingley hadn't been frightened off for good, Severus reached for the half-eaten banana at his feet, pinched off a bite and tossed it to Bingley, who gobbled it gratefully. 

"We are _not_ eating Bingley!" Severus turned back to Lupin, glaring fiercely. 

"Bingley...?" Lupin was gaping at him, and Severus drew himself up with a haughty sniff. 

"Bingley," he said, his tone daring Lupin to make a single mocking comment. "He comes 'round once in a while, usually at night. He sleeps with me," he added, a defensive note creeping into his voice in spite of his best efforts to keep it out. 

Lupin finally stopped gaping, but then he began to look amused, which was worse, and Severus braced himself for some kind of insult about an iguana being a suitable bed partner for him, but none was forthcoming. Instead, Lupin turned his attention to Bingley, as if studying him. 

"Does he let you pet him?" 

"I don't know." Severus shifted so he could see Bingley again. "I haven't tried. I've just fed him, that's all." 

"It could be a girl, you know. Bingette." Lupin appeared to be on the brink of laughing, and Severus wished that if he was going to making a cutting remark that he would go ahead and do it and get it out of the way. Neither Potter nor Black would have wasted any time in being as scathing as possible. 

"If you know how to distinguish a male reptile from a female reptile, by all means have at it." 

"I don't," Lupin said mildly. "Besides, I'm not the one who's been feeding him, so he might bite me." 

An image of Lupin with an iguana latched onto his finger popped into Severus' mind, and he repressed a snicker, covering his amusement by breaking off another piece of banana and feeding it to Bingley instead. 

"Are we done with Storm and Harmony's adventures for now?" Lupin fluffed up his pillow and settled on his pallet with a weary sigh, tucking his clasped hands beneath his chin. 

"Yes." Severus flipped open the book to note the page number, and then he closed it and put it aside. "I need to wash some clothes anyway." 

"I don't suppose I could wheedle you into washing some of mine." At the sight of Severus' glare, Lupin smiled drowsily. "Thought not." With that, he closed his eyes, and within a matter of minutes, Severus could tell by the way his body relaxed and by the shift in the rhythm of his breathing that he had fallen asleep. 

Instead of getting up and gathering his clothes to be washed, Severus remained where he was, watching Lupin sleep. A lock of hair had fallen across Lupin's face, a temptation to be brushed back, but Severus clasped his hands and held firm. Lupin's hair looked soft and thick and unkempt, longer now and shaggy too; it wouldn't be long before Lupin would need something to tie it back as Severus did. At home, Lupin's hair had been a nondescript, muddy brown shot with silver, but it had lightened, a richer golden color brought out by the sun. There was what seemed to be a perpetual strip of pink across Lupin's nose and cheeks, making the smattering of freckles more noticeable, but the rest of him had turned golden brown. Except, Severus thought, what lay hidden under his shorts. Under there, Lupin was probably still as pale as milk. 

Severus' own skin had turned bronze, a deeper, darker shade than Lupin's, which Severus assumed was a product of his different skin tone. With his dark hair and eyes, he could probably pass as Hispanic at a glance, although a glimpse under _his_ shorts would reveal the truth as well. He wasn't as self-conscious as he had been when they first arrived; all the physical activity had given him a little muscle, and even if it hadn't, he didn't want to bother with a lot of clothes anyway except at night when it turned chilly or when it rained. He was content with his swimming trunks or a tee shirt and a pair of shorts and a slathering of sun screen lotion, no longer feeling the need for layers of protective armor. What had he to hide from here anyway? 

Tucking his knees beneath his chin, he wrapped his arms around his legs and continued studying Lupin. He wanted to stop thinking about Lupin's attractive qualities. He wanted to stop thinking about the fact that Lupin was gay. He wanted to stop thinking about Lupin's hands on his body. He wanted to stop wondering if Lupin let his mask slip during sex and showed something beyond his usual restrained range of emotion. 

The problem was, he _couldn't_ stop thinking about any of those things, not when Lupin was right under his nose all the damned time. He needed Lupin to get well enough to be on his own again, and he needed Lupin to return to his part of the island well away from Severus as soon as possible before Severus did something profoundly stupid like letting himself get carried away by the sight of those damned appealing laugh lines and trying to seduce Lupin, or worse, falling in love with him. It would be just like that damned annoying werewolf to make Severus love him in spite of logic and good sense, but Severus wasn't going to let that happen. 

Severus would drive Lupin away - be so nasty and hateful to him that he couldn't bear to remain in Severus' presence and fled back to the beach. Severus knew he could do it; he had decades of practice at keeping people at a distance. That a tiny part of him deep down didn't want to do it wasn't something he cared to acknowledge. 

Bolstering his resolve, Severus began freezing Lupin out that evening, refusing to converse; he responded in monosyllables or icy silence, and it wasn't long before Lupin took the hint and stopped trying to engage him. As soon as he had eaten dinner and cleaned up his dishes, he retreated to his cave without building up the fire as he had for the past two nights and leaving Lupin to clean up his own mess. He cast a light spell and distracted himself with reading a horror novel about vampires that was too wildly inaccurate to be scary, although his mind occasionally wandered to Lupin. He wondered if Lupin would seek shelter in the cave, but by the time Severus was tired enough to sleep, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Lupin, which he supposed was the answer to his question. At some point during the night, he became aware of something snuggling against him, but it wasn't Lupin; Bingley had come to join him, and Severus adjusted the blanket so Bingley was covered by it too before drifting off to sleep again. 

The next morning, he emerged from his cave to find Lupin already up and rebuilding the fire. Lupin watched him furtively as if trying to gauge his mood, but Severus ignored him, going about his morning routine as if Lupin weren't even there. Silence hung over the camp, a thick, heavy blanket that even seemed to muffle the song of the birds and insects; Severus felt the weight of it pressing down on him, but he refused to relent, knowing this was the best and safest thing for him to do. 

He was lounging in the pond when Lupin finally approached him, slipping into the cool water near Severus, but not close enough to encroach on his personal space. There was a minute or two of silence, and then Lupin cleared his throat. 

"The full moon is in a few days," he said, glancing sidelong at Severus. 

"Mm." 

"I was digging a hole," Lupin continued in a conversational tone. "Before I got sick, I mean. I thought perhaps a deep pit would serve to contain me since there isn't anyplace where I can be locked up." 

Severus stared at the waterfall, watching the dance of rainbow colors as light was caught in the spray. The reminder of the full moon's approach gave him a little twinge of apprehension since he hadn't yet decided what he would do to keep himself safe if Lupin's pit wasn't enough to hold the wolf, but he had a few ideas and enough time to implement them. Besides, he didn't want to give Lupin the satisfaction of seeing him react, and he damned well wasn't going to volunteer to help dig. 

"If you have any ideas, I'm open to suggestions," Lupin added, and Severus turned his head slowly and gave Lupin a withering look. 

"I have nothing to say on the subject," he replied, and with that, he removed himself from the pond. 

He stayed away from the camp until dusk, first trying to catch a few crabs and then gathering some wood since the stockpile was getting low. When he returned, he saw Lupin had set the finished jack-o-lantern on a rock and had lighted it. Lupin had also tidied the camp and had obviously overexerted himself in the process since he was curled up on his pallet, sound asleep. Severus dumped his armload of wood on the pile, and the racket made Lupin wake with a start; he sat up, bleary-eyed, and glanced around as if alarmed until he saw Severus. He offered a tentative smile which Severus returned with cold blankness, and Severus saw rather than heard Lupin's sigh as Lupin turned away. 

Lupin made a halfhearted attempt at conversation over dinner, which Severus ignored. It was more difficult to ignore Lupin himself, however; Severus' eyes were drawn to Lupin in spite of his best efforts to prevent it, and he noted that Lupin was still weak and easily tired, although he was restless as well. Usually, Lupin could be quiet and still, but that night, he seemed fidgety, and he kept seeking something to do with his hands, even if it was just idly plucking and tossing blades of grass. 

There was a wildness rising in the depths of his eyes; Severus could see it beneath the fatigue, and he knew the wolf was nearing the surface, answering the call of the waxing moon. The fact that Lupin had dug a pit wasn't terribly reassuring, although Severus supposed he ought to be gratified that Lupin was trying to do something constructive rather than shirking his responsibility. Still, Severus didn't intend to rely solely on Lupin's pit to keep him safe, and the next morning, he searched for a few particular plants while he was gathering fruit for breakfast so he could begin making his own preparations. 

Breakfast was a silent affair, and afterward, Severus rose, intending to make his escape and spend the day away from camp - away from Lupin. 

"Severus." 

Lupin's quiet voice froze him in his tracks, but he didn't turn, refusing to look at Lupin. 

"If I've done something to offend you, I apologize," Lupin continued. "Yesterday, I thought you were just in a bad mood, but you still aren't speaking to me today. If you'll tell me what I've done, I'll try to make amends, but I don't know what I did or said wrong. I've been trying to think what it might have been, but I can't figure it out." 

Severus straightened his spine and kept his back to Lupin as he spoke. "Your presence in my home offends me."

There was a long silence, and when Lupin spoke again, his voice was quiet, but Severus could hear something dark throbbing under the surface of that calm tone, and it made him shiver. "I see. I assume you would like me to remove myself to the beach immediately, then." 

"You assume correctly." He whirled abruptly, fixing Lupin with a venomous glare. "Get your things and go. I want you out of my camp - out of my territory - out of my life!" 

"Damn it, Severus, what happened?" Lupin ran his fingers through his hair, growing visibly agitated for once, and Severus gloated at the evidence of having found a chink in the man's armor at long last. "Yesterday morning, things were fine. You were reading, we were talking, we made a bet. I thought-" 

"You thought what?" Severus sneered with all the scorn and derision he could muster. "That we could put our differences aside? That we could be friends and skip through the jungle together while we gather fruit?" 

"No, I-" A flush rose in Lupin's face, and he glanced away. "I thought things could be different. I thought I wouldn't have to be alone anymore." 

The words were like a dagger in Severus' gut, and he knew with crystalline clarity how Lupin felt. Knew the ache of loneliness and need for just one person to talk to and who would understand, someone with whom the masks and shields could be put aside. He _knew_ , but he refused to let that sway him from his course; to give in to maudlin sentimentality would be a mistake that he would pay for sooner or later. 

"Then you're a fool!" Severus spat, stalking toward Lupin. He closed the distance between them and reached out to poke Lupin's shoulder as he loomed over Lupin, glaring down at him. "Things are never going to be different, and you and I will never be friends. I don't care how long we're stuck on this damned island. I don't want anything to do with you!" The poke turned into a shove, and Lupin stumbled backward. 

"Severus, don't-" 

"I should have known you would try this." Triumph swelled within Severus as he watched Lupin's face flushing bright red and Lupin's hands clenching into fists; finally, he had done it. He had found the right button to push, and he intended to stomp on it for all he was worth. "You're a weak, sniveling fool who can't manage on his own. You crumble when you're alone. First, you had that pack of idiots you called friends, but you lost them, didn't you?" Another shove, and Lupin shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. 

"Please, Severus, stop-" 

But Severus had no intention of stopping. "Then you had that stupid girl panting after you, and you let her do it, knowing you would never be able to give her what she wanted. You want someone so desperately, but you can't keep them. They die - they leave you - and then you wilt again and try to find someone else to latch onto like the leech you are, but you won't drag me down!" He fisted both hands in Lupin's shirt and shook him roughly. 

And Lupin opened his eyes, and Severus found himself staring down into the eyes of the beast. 

His voice withered into silence, and his mouth formed a small O of surprise - and then Lupin snarled and knocked Severus' hands away. "I told you to stop, but you just had to keep pushing." Lupin's voice was deep and growling, and Severus took a cautious step backward, wanting to edge away from the beast he had poked and roused, but Lupin followed him. "Your mouth has always got you into trouble, Severus." 

"What are you going to do?" Severus lifted his chin, determined to brazen it out. He hadn't shown fear to the Dark Lord himself, and he wasn't going to show it to the likes of Lupin. "Beat me? Rip out my throat? Do your worst! I'm not afr-" 

Whatever else he might have said was muffled by the crush of a hot mouth and hard, demanding lips, and his scathing words were swallowed by a brutal kiss. Severus froze, too shocked to move, much less protest, and Lupin took advantage of his immobility to plunge his tongue between Severus' unresisting lips, and Severus felt molten heat explode in the pit of his stomach, sending fiery tendrils along every nerve ending in his body. His knees felt weak, and he clung to Lupin's shoulders to keep himself upright, and suddenly, somehow, he was sucking on Lupin's tongue as if it contained the nectar of life, and his cheeks burned as he realized the soft, needy whimpers he heard were coming from him. 

His head was swimming, and he couldn't think, only feel, and what he felt was a consuming need to taste and to touch every centimeter of Lupin's body. Lupin began to herd him backwards, and he went willingly, not caring where Lupin took him as long as Lupin didn't stop kissing him, and Lupin didn't, not even when he wrestled Severus down onto his pallet and straddled Severus' hips, grinding against him in a slow, agonizing roll. 

Groaning, Severus clamped one hand on the back of Lupin's head, twining his fingers in Lupin's hair at last, and he demanded entrance into Lupin's mouth, pushing his tongue past Lupin's lips and moaning his pleasure and triumph as he claimed Lupin's mouth, growing lightheaded, almost drunk with lust. 

Abruptly, Lupin wrenched away from the kiss and sat up, still undulating against Severus as he yanked Severus' tee shirt up and bent to seal his mouth over one nipple; Severus shifted restlessly as Lupin sucked and licked - and then Lupin bit down, and Severus yelped, arching his back off the pallet in a silent demand for more. Lupin seemed to take that as permission to cover Severus' chest and stomach with bites, and Severus panted and squirmed beneath him, arousal flaring higher and hotter until he thought he might go mad if Lupin didn't touch him _now_. 

Relief flooded him when Lupin reached out to pop the button on Severus' shorts and yanked down the zipper; Lupin had to scoot back to sit on Severus' thighs to pull down Severus' shorts and underpants, and Severus lifted his hips obligingly, and a groan of bone deep need escaped him as he watched Lupin free his cock. The sight of those big knuckled fingers curled around him was even more erotic than he imagined it would be - and he had a vivid imagination. Even better was how those fingers felt stroking him, just as strong and firm as Severus thought they would be.

Belatedly, it occurred to him that he could be doing the same thing to Lupin, and he immediately sat up, ignoring Lupin's attempt to push him down again - an attempt that stopped as soon as Lupin realized Severus was unfastening his shorts. Instead, Lupin snaked out his free hand and fisted it in Severus' hair, hauling him into another kiss, and Severus moaned into Lupin's mouth and swallowed Lupin's answering moans as he closed his fingers around Lupin's thick cock, matching Lupin's rhythm. He wanted to watch, wanted to see Lupin's hand working him, but he didn't want to give up Lupin's mouth, savoring the thrust of Lupin's tongue and the way Lupin bit desperately at his lips between kisses as if ravenous for him. And so he gave himself over to feeling instead, his breath hitching every time Lupin slid his thumb along the underside in a slow, firm press. 

It had been a long time since anyone had touched Severus like this; for that matter, it had been a long time since Severus had touched himself, much less anyone else, like this. He'd had no time or energy to spare for thoughts of sex during the war, and he had largely ceased to think of himself as a sexual creature, far more concerned about his continued survival. If he lived, he thought, he would do something to satisfy the needs of his flesh then. He had lived, but Azkaban wasn't an ideal place to try to rekindle his libido, and it hadn't been until now, on this island, that it awakened, infusing him with lusty urges all directed toward Lupin. 

Lupin, who was driving him to the brink with his mouth and one hand, but Severus was giving as good as he got, and as Severus' moans grew louder and his body tightened as he hovered on the edge of release, he could feel Lupin was right there with him, their bodies taut and quivering and _right there_ , and then there was an explosion of heat and light and exquisite pleasure beyond anything Severus could ever remember before in his life, and his cry of joyous release was echoed by Lupin's own. 

Panting, Severus slumped and bowed his head, his hair falling in a dark curtain around him as he struggled to catch his breath; he stroked Lupin one last time, satisfied at the shudder that provoked, and then he lifted his hand, intending to taste - but Lupin's soft words made him go still. 

"I'm sorry, Severus." 

Severus jerked his head up and stared at Lupin, whose head was still bowed as if in shame. 

"I didn't mean to force you into anything. I was angry, and it's so close to the full moon. It's more difficult for me to keep my temper-" He broke off and shook his head. "It's no excuse. I should have just walked away. I'm sorry." 

Lupin groped for a cloth and wiped off his hands swiftly, and then he offered the cloth to Severus, who took it numbly. Scrambling up and off Severus, Lupin rose with an uncharacteristic lack of grace and fastened his shorts, and then he backed away. 

"I'll leave you alone, I promise," Lupin said, his voice harsh and ragged, and with that, he whirled and fled, leaving Severus there on the pallet, too stunned to call out. 

Not that it would do any good. Lupin seemed awash in guilt, and Severus doubted Lupin would be inclined to listen to reason right now anyway. Slowly, he cleaned himself up and readjusted his clothes, going through the motions as he lost himself in thought. Stretching out on his back on the pallet, he stacked his hands beneath his head and gazed up through the canopy of trees; he fancied he could still catch the scent of sex in the air, and it made his body stir anew. Now that he'd had a taste in reality of the fantasies that had been plaguing him in his imagination, he wanted more. 

He wanted Lupin. 

There. He admitted it. He wanted Remus Lupin. 

And it seemed Remus Lupin wanted him too, he thought, a smug little smirk tugging at his lips. Certainly the fact that his body was pleasantly sated, and his torso was covered with bite marks and bruises from Lupin's hot, sucking mouth provided ample proof of that. 

Now he just had to find a way to convince Lupin to do it again.


	4. Chapter 4

Severus lay on his lumpy bed of leaves and stared at the jack-o-lantern. He'd brought it into his cave and lit it, intending to use it as a reading lamp, but he didn't feel like reading. He didn't feel like doing much of anything, and he had spent a restless evening trying to find something to occupy himself with and failing. There were plenty of things he could do - gather wood, read, go for a swim - but he wasn't satisfied by any of those activities. Perhaps it was the pull of the moon affecting him as well as Lupin, or perhaps, as much as he hated to admit it, he was lonely and missed Lupin's company, but whatever the reason, Severus had been miserable since Lupin left. 

Reaching out, he skimmed his fingertips along the smooth surface of the pumpkin rind and traced the outline of the eyes, nose and frowning mouth, remembering Lupin sitting cross-legged on his pallet as he carved its face. The magical light within shone steadily, adding a warm glow to his cave, but tonight, it seemed the walls of the cave were closing in on him, and he felt stifled. 

Flinging back his blanket, he rolled off his bed and rose to his feet, bending to snatch up the jack-o-lantern and his blanket before striding out of the cave. The campfire had burnt down to embers, but it took little effort to build it up again, and he settled down on Lupin's pallet and snuggled under his blanket, the jack-o-lantern glowing on a nearby rock. 

"Nox," he murmured, and the light inside the pumpkin went out. For a while, Severus lay on his back and gazed up at the stars, amazed anew at how bright they seemed in this place far away from the Muggle technology that kept the world lit up even in the darkest hours of the night. The sounds of the jungle no longer seemed eerie or frightening; there was a particularly loud frog that was annoying, and he hoped some predator came along and ate it, but he was too relaxed and content to get up and chase after it himself. 

Being outside helped soothe his restlessness, and it wasn't long before he began to feel drowsy, lulled by the soothing night-sounds; he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, letting himself drift off, finding a measure of peace at last. 

His subconscious must have made a decision during the night, because as soon as he awoke the next morning, Severus performed his usual ablutions, and then he packed up a few things, slung a shovel over his shoulder, and without a second thought or moment of hesitation, he set off to return to the beach for the first time since he stormed away and left Lupin to his own devices. 

When he arrived at Lupin's camp, the first thing Severus noticed was that Lupin had built a rather nice shelter. It was a few centimeters off the ground, and while it wasn't the best piece of carpentry he'd ever seen, the structure looked sturdy and dry, and Lupin had a cozy little bundle of blankets for a bed. 

The second thing he noticed was that Lupin was nowhere in sight, but Severus was undaunted. He searched the area, and finally, he found Lupin scraping away in the pit he'd mentioned, grunting as he drove his shovel into the earth again and again. Lupin was covered in mud, and his hair was wet with sweat and sticking to his neck, but Severus still wanted nothing more than to jump into the pit and wrestle Lupin to the ground for another carnal romp. 

Instead, he lowered his shovel and leaned against the handle as he gazed down at Lupin. "If you keep that up, you're going to work yourself into a relapse, and I'll have to play nursemaid again," he drawled. 

Lupin whirled, visibly startled, and he stared up at Severus, his eyes widening. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think?" Severus gestured to his shovel. "I knew this is what I'd find. I didn't work so hard to save your life just so you could undo it all by being a stubborn fool." 

Lupin plunged his shovel into the ground and braced his fists on his hips, looking up at Severus with defiance. "You aren't responsible for me, Severus." 

"On the contrary," Severus replied, lowering his bag to the ground. "You made yourself my responsibility when you came stumbling into my territory, delirious with fever and begging for my help." He stripped off his tee shirt and draped it over his bag, and then he grabbed his shovel and jumped down into the pit with Lupin. 

Up close, Lupin presented an even more alarming sight; his face was pale as milk, and he was sweating far more profusely than he ought to be, even while performing manual labor. 

"Besides," Severus continued, resisting the urge to stroke Lupin's wan cheek, "the full moon is tomorrow night, and I'm the one who is at risk if you aren't contained. It's in my own best interests to make certain this pit is deep enough to hold you." 

"You could have just let me die," Lupin muttered, averting his gaze as if he were trying to avoid looking at Severus' half-naked body. 

"I'm no longer in the death-dealing line. Not anymore." Severus grabbed Lupin's shovel and tossed it out of the pit. "Now get out of here. Drink some water and then lie down. You can take another turn later, but right now, you're in no shape to continue." 

Severus wasn't certain whether it was because Lupin knew there was no point in arguing, or if Lupin was feeling worse than he looked, but either way, Lupin didn't protest. He hefted himself out of the pit and returned to his camp, leaving Severus to work alone, and Severus promptly began. 

He wasn't foolish enough to rely on this pit alone to keep him safe during the full moon; he had plans of his own that didn't hinge on hoping they could dig a hole deep enough in time. He had survived the crash and nearly a month on a deserted island under adverse conditions, and he didn't intend to end up as werewolf chow after all of that. No, indeed. 

After a while, Lupin returned, looking less pale and better rested, and they worked in silence; the pit was wide enough for them to work without jostling against each other, but Severus found ways to make certain his bare arm brushed against Lupin frequently nonetheless. It was just a pity, he thought, that Lupin had decided to cover himself up for once. It seemed their roles had reversed; Lupin was wearing longer shorts and a tee shirt, while Severus had donned the shortest, tightest pair of shorts he had and no shirt. The only thing they wore in common was a sheen of sweat. 

When the sun reached its hottest, they stopped working, and Severus followed Lupin back to his shelter, making himself at home without asking. It was better to ask forgiveness than permission, and Lupin seemed off-balance enough by his behavior not to think about kicking him out. After eating some fruit and drinking a bottle of water, Lupin stretched out on his bed of blankets and threw his arm across his eyes, and Severus lounged under the shelter with him, sipping his own bottle of water. After he had finished off a second banana, he rose to fetch his bag and pulled out _Sweet Savage Storm_. 

"You brought the book?" Although his eyes were shielded, apparently they weren't closed, and Severus smirked a little at the proof that Lupin was paying attention to him. 

"Are you suffering heat stroke, or just a temporary inability to read?" Severus retorted. 

"I'm just surprised, that's all." Lupin turned his head, peeking at Severus from beneath his arm. "You're a curious creature, Severus." 

"Only to the inattentive and the unwary." Severus arched a questioning eyebrow. "Do you want to hear more, or do you want to sleep?" 

"I'd like you to read, please." 

"Very well." Severus sat cross-legged beside Lupin, surreptitiously shifting closer so that his knee pressed against Lupin's thigh, and he opened the book. "If you recall, they were about to have sex when we left off." 

"You could skip that bit," Lupin said, and Severus thought he saw a flush in Lupin's cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat or the sun. 

"No, I want to see what new position they use this time." Severus took a sip of water, cleared his throat, and then he began to read. That he pitched his voice to a deep, softly seductive tone when he read the sex scene, emphasizing the descriptions of Storm's sculpted pecs, bulging biceps, and "throbbing manhood" until he saw Lupin squirm just a little was just an innocent coincidence. 

Severus returned to his own camp that evening, setting off before dusk to avoid stumbling around in the jungle after dark, and he slept outside by the campfire again, finding the cave too stuffy and confining. Bingley seemed undeterred by the change in location, having found Severus in the night and wormed his way under the blanket. Apparently, Severus thought with no little amusement when he woke and found himself with a reptilian bed mate once more, it wasn't the cave that was the draw, but Severus himself. 

He reached out and tentatively stroked Bingley's head, and rather than snapping at his finger, Bingley closed his eyes and lifted his head, as if seeking more petting. Severus found himself smiling at the simple pleasure offered by the touch and companionship of another living creature. He'd never owned a pet before, not even a post owl; he'd never needed one as long as he was at Hogwarts, and after, it had been too risky to have a particular owl associated with him. 

Never a pet, never a long-term lover, never a close friend whom he could trust and count on. There were so many things he'd never had, so many simple pleasures of life that others took for granted, but which had always been beyond his grasp. Odd how it had taken becoming a castaway on a deserted island for him to begin finding some normalcy in his life. 

He spent the day working on the pit with Lupin again; they concentrated on making it wider and deeper, and Severus suspected they were both suffering under the apprehension that the werewolf would be able to climb free if they stopped digging too soon. Severus forced Lupin to take several breaks, grumbling about having to play nursemaid to convalescent Gryffindors who didn't listen to sound advice about not overdoing it. Lupin seemed to bristle, but he said nothing, perhaps fearing a repeat of what happened the last time Severus had provoked him - which Severus wouldn't have minded in the least - and obeyed, although Severus noticed he seemed even more restless than ever. 

By the time the afternoon had waned, the pit was deep enough that Severus had to give Lupin a hand up, and then Lupin reached down and helped haul Severus out. 

"We should think about making a grate for the top," Severus suggested as he stood at the lip of the hole and gazed down at their handiwork. 

"Good idea," Lupin said, dusting his hands off on his shirt. He glanced at Severus, worry evident in his eyes. "You aren't staying here, are you?"

"Of course I am," Severus replied, frowning. 

"But-" 

Severus waved one hand, cutting him off. "I'd rather stay here and know the werewolf is safely in the pit than run off and hide somewhere and wonder all night." 

_Besides, I didn't come unprepared,_ he thought. 

"All right." Lupin still looked troubled, but he didn't argue further. 

In spite of the bravado he projected, Severus was uneasy, and his stomach was in knots as he thought about facing the werewolf again. It would be different this time from the two previous times, but still, he wished for the means to brew the Wolfsbane, he wished for a safe and sturdy room where Lupin could be locked away, and he wished for his wand so he could defend himself if their containment efforts failed. 

They dined on a light meal of fruit; Severus couldn't stomach much, and it seemed Lupin's appetite wasn't strong either, and neither of them spoke. Tension borne of dread hung between them, suffocating conversation, and they both darted furtive glances at the beach, watching the sun sink below the horizon. 

At last, Lupin stood and offered a mirthless smile. "It's time." 

Severus nodded as he rose to his feet as well, not knowing what kind of response would be appropriate. All that came to mind was, "I hope you don't kill me," but that wouldn't reassure either of them.

Lupin leaped into the pit, hitting the bottom with an audible squelch of mud, and he stripped off his clothes, tossing them out. Severus loitered by the edge, using the pretense of collecting Lupin's clothes to peek, but there were too many shadows concealing Lupin from view. He folded Lupin's clothes and then began puttering around the camp, tidying up as an outlet for his restless energy, and all the while, he kept an eye on the darkening sky, his stomach sinking as the moon began to rise. 

The screams let him know the transformation had begun, and he clenched his fists to keep from clapping his hands over his ears to block out the sounds of Lupin's agony. He closed his eyes, but that only made things worse; he imagined he could hear the crack of Lupin's bones and the creaking stretch of Lupin's muscles and sinews, and he opened his eyes again, forcing himself to look down. 

The beast lay sprawled in the mud, panting, its thin ribcage rising and falling erratically, and Severus stared, morbidly fascinated in spite of himself. His body tensed, poised for flight in recognition of a predator more powerful and deadly than himself, and his heart pounded against the walls of his chest, but he couldn't look away, poring raptly over details now that he could study them in relative safety. 

Its fur was a tawny brown, lighter than Lupin's hair, and it was shot with white; Severus wondered if the fur was as coarse and bristly to the touch as it appeared, although he damned well didn't care to find out. Its legs were gangly, its tail plumed, and its eyes... Its eyes glowed with a feral light, no hint of intelligence or humanity as it rolled to its feet and stared up at him, its nose wrinkling as it scented the air. 

Severus froze as it bared its teeth and growled, and then his instincts kicked in, urging flight, and he scrambled back, getting as far away from the edge of the pit as he could while still being able to see inside. As the only specimen of the werewolf's preferred prey on the island, Severus wanted to keep an eye on the beast until the moon set and he was safe once more. 

There was silence from within the pit - and then suddenly, the werewolf coiled and lunged, hurling itself up in a desperate attempt to escape. Its claws scrabbled at the black earth as it fought for a toehold, and Severus' breath froze in his lungs. 

_God help me, it's going to get out._

Severus lunged for his bag and fumbled frantically for the two small packets he had stashed in there; his fingers shook hard enough that he nearly dropped them, but he tightened his grip, grimly determined to conquer his fear and do what must be done. 

Approaching the pit again, he could see the werewolf still trying to leap and crawl out, coming ever closer to the top with each attempt, and Severus felt as if he'd been hit by a Jelly Legs Jinx. He could stand tall and proud before the Dark Lord, but the thought of being mauled to death by a ravening beast terrified him more than anything the Dark Lord could have done. 

He raised his hand, silently offering a plea for Fate to smile on him just this once; he had never been athletic, but if he missed, there was far more to lose than a couple of points in a game. 

With its prey so close, the werewolf turned frantic, yowling its frustration as it struggled to get out, and Severus swallowed his fear, forcing it down, forcing himself to stand at the edge, take aim, and let the first packet fly. 

It exploded in a burst of greenish powder in the werewolf's face, and the werewolf let out a yelp of pain as it fell to the bottom of the pit and began to roll, flailing ineffectually at its eyes. Severus closed his eyes, swaying in place as he fought the urge to collapse in relief. For now, he was safe. The powder he had created would make the werewolf's eyes burn and itch, but he didn't know how long it would last, or if the werewolf would overcome the pain long enough to renew its efforts to escape, fury driving it to succeed. 

Opening his eyes, he stuffed the second packet into his pocket, grabbed his bag, and fled. He couldn't see, and branches whipped and stung his face, arms and torso as he stumbled through the jungle, but he didn't care. There was a tall tree near the cave, and as soon as he reached it, he began to shimmy up, climbing as high as he possibly could. Wrapping both arms around the trunk, he huddled on a sturdy limb, ears straining for any sign of the werewolf giving chase. 

The night stretched out into eternity as he waited, shivering half from fear and half from cold, but at long last, the moon sank down, heralding the approach of day, and the werewolf hadn't come after him. 

Only when the sun peeked over the horizon, casting pink tendrils into the sky did Severus move, stretching his stiff limbs cautiously and easing his way down the tree. It had been a long, hellish night, but he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

When Severus awoke the next day, he was hot and sticky, and not in the good, fun way. The heat of the day was upon them, and he was snuggled up so close to Lupin, he thought they might have melted together a bit. It took a moment for him to remember how he'd got there, but then memory came flooding back, and he remembered what had happened after he had climbed down from the tree he had spent the night in. 

He had stumbled blearily to the pit, relieved but not surprised to find Lupin curled up asleep at the bottom, and shouted until Lupin woke up. After hoisting Lupin out, which he rather thought qualified as a comedy of errors given how exhausted they both were, he helped Lupin back to his camp, where they both collapsed in Lupin's shelter. 

Now it was somewhere around mid-afternoon, and Severus was hungry - starving, really. He rolled away from Lupin and sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning; he glanced down at Lupin and found himself arrested by the sight of Lupin's face, pale and drawn in the aftermath of the transformation. 

Even in sleep, Lupin's face showed signs of strain, and the delicate skin around his eyes was red and puffy. Severus felt a little twinge of guilt over that since it was likely his burning powder that had caused it. He supposed he ought to feel disgusted with himself for being attracted to Lupin after having a terrifying reminder of exactly what Lupin was. He supposed he ought to care that Lupin was a Dark creature, not fully human and dangerous to boot. 

He didn't. 

The werewolf scared the hell out of him, and he wanted to start working on a grate for that damned pit as soon as possible, but last night was the worst it would ever be, and he had survived. Even without his wand or the Wolfsbane potion, he hadn't been eviscerated, and now he was left with Lupin, who scared the hell out of him for entirely different reasons. 

Moving carefully to avoid waking Lupin, he left the shelter and went off in search of fresh fruit for breakfast, and when he returned with his haul, he sliced up half a pineapple, half a mango, and a whole banana, mixing them in a bowl with a sprinkling of coconut shavings. Fetching a bottle of water, he took the bowl back to the shelter and nudged Lupin's shoulder until Lupin finally stirred. 

"Here." He set the bowl on Lupin's chest, ignoring the drowsily questioning look Lupin was giving him. "Eat this, and then we'll go to the pond." 

With that, he went off to slice up some fruit for himself, settling by the cold ashes of the campfire and ignoring Lupin's quizzical glances. It was rare that he ever felt he had the upper hand with Lupin, and he intended to enjoy it. 

"My eyes are burning." Lupin cradled the bowl in one hand as he sat up and rubbed at his eyes with the other, and Severus slapped his hand away. 

"Don't rub them. You'll only make it worse." He fetched a bottle of water and handed it over. "Here, rinse them out with this. It looked as if the werewolf might manage to get out last night, so I threw a pepper-based powder in its face to give me a few minutes to run away and climb a tree - which I did," he added. "The powder won't damage your eyes." 

"I'm sorry if I frightened you," Lupin said, staring down at the bowl of fruit, his expression bleak, as if he expected Severus to tell him to go away again. 

Severus shrugged insouciantly. "Between the pit and the powder, you didn't get out, so it hardly matters. We'll build a grate for the top and weight it down with stones, and then next month, I won't have to go up a tree again." 

Lupin lifted his head and watched Severus silently for a minute or two, the bleakness in his eyes closing off and becoming something that Severus couldn't read. At last, he looked away and began flushing the remains of the powder out of his eyes, and Severus concentrated on slicing some fruit for himself. After they finished breakfast, Severus packed up the dirty dishes, a few toiletries, a couple of towels, a change of clothes for Lupin and the empty water bottles, and he slung the bag over his shoulder. Approaching the shelter, he bent and held out one hand. 

"Come on, then," he said impatiently. "You're filthy. You need a wash, and so do those blankets." 

Looking more than a little confused, Lupin clasped Severus' hand and let Severus help him up, keeping one blanket to wrap around himself as a saggy toga. Severus gathered the rest of the blankets briskly, slinging them over one arm before setting off to the pond. Lupin followed behind, silent and walking more slowly than usual, and Severus adjusted his pace to accommodate Lupin's post-transformation fatigue. 

Once they reached the pond, Severus noticed Lupin casting a furtive glance at him before dropping the blanket and wading into the cool water, and Severus rolled his eyes. As if he hadn't seen it all before. As if he didn't want to see it all again. 

He unpacked the toiletries - body wash, shampoo, a razor, shaving cream, and a washcloth - and lined them up on a rock before stripping off his own clothes, not bothering to hide himself from Lupin's view. He waded in and swam around a bit, dunking himself several times to rinse off; Lupin didn't paddle around as he usually did, instead choosing to lean against a moss-covered rock with his face turned up to the sun and his eyes closed. 

Gathering up the soap, shampoo and washcloth, Severus swam over to Lupin and splashed water in his face, evilly amused by Lupin's startled sputtering. "Come on - I'll scrub your back under the waterfall." 

Lupin stared at him, wide-eyed. "Severus-" 

"You're recovering from a fever and the transformation, and I damned well don't want you overdoing it and drowning yourself," Severus interrupted sharply. "So unless you want to be buried under a marker reading 'Utter Imbecile' for all eternity, you'll get over there now." 

There was a stubborn set to Lupin's mouth as he swam over to the waterfall that told Severus the matter wasn't settled yet, but Severus didn't care. Lupin was obeying for now, and that was all that mattered. 

Lupin watched him warily as he gathered up bottles of shampoo and body wash and a washcloth, and the wariness shifted to outright suspicion when Severus moved to stand behind him and began lathering up the cloth with a generous amount of soapy liquid. 

"All right, Severus - enough." Lupin half-turned so he could peer at Severus over his shoulder. "What's this all about? You're planning to suffocate me with the washcloth? Or are you going to hold me under the water instead?" 

"I'm going to do what I said I was going to do: wash your back." 

Lupin continued eying him with blatant disbelief. "What's the catch?" 

"There is no catch." 

"There _has_ to be a catch." 

Severus huffed impatiently and glared at the damned recalcitrant werewolf. "There's no bloody catch! Can't I just do something nice for you?"

"You don't usually." 

All right, fine - Lupin had a point, Severus conceded grudgingly. But instead of arguing further, he began washing Lupin's back, running the wet, soapy washcloth up and down the length of Lupin's back in slow, smooth strokes. After Lupin's skin was wet and coated with a light sheen of foamy lather, he began to scrub harder, noting with satisfaction that a shudder rippled down Lupin's spine in response. Emboldened, he moved closer, letting Lupin feel the overlap of their body heat as he slid his arm around Lupin's waist and trailed the washcloth along Lupin's stomach. 

"Severus..." Lupin's voice was almost too low to hear over the roar of the waterfall, but Severus bent his head, straining to catch the words. "I don't understand. A few days ago, you told me to go away and leave you alone. Today, you're touching me. What has changed?" 

"I have." Severus tightened his arm around Lupin and closed the distance between them, pressing his torso against Lupin's back, soaking up the oasis of heat Lupin's body offered in the middle of the chilly water. 

But still Lupin held himself stiffly away from Severus, refusing to relax. "I've no reason to trust you. Things seemed to be going well before, and then you tossed me out again for no apparent reason. I won't be toyed with, Severus." 

"It won't happen again." Severus dragged the washcloth up, swiping at Lupin's nipples until he gasped and shivered. "And we have nothing but time for me to prove it." 

Lupin laughed softly. "True." He fell silent again, seeming pensive, and Severus occupied himself with scrubbing Lupin's shoulders until he was ready to voice whatever was on his mind. "What happened before the full moon..." Lupin began hesitantly. "I thought you would hate me for it." 

"Then you're an idiot," Severus said bluntly. "I thought you would have figured out that I didn't hate it from the notable lack of screaming, 'no, no, stop, I don't want this'."

"Well, the fact that you kissed me and brought me off as well was a clue, but with you, one never knows," Lupin replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "Just because you didn't seem to mind while it was happening doesn't mean you might not murder me in my sleep for it the next day once you'd had time to think about it and wonder if you'd taken too great a risk." 

"Well, I didn't," Severus retorted huffily, uncertain whether he was more annoyed by the accusation of inconsistency or by Lupin's insight. "I didn't mind it while it was happening or the next day either."

"Good to know." Lupin glanced away, idly stroking the back of Severus' hand with his fingertips. "It wasn't just that," he admitted. "I didn't like forcing you in anger. I try to control my bestial urges, but it was so close to the moon, and you kept pushing. I lost control, and I regret it. It wasn't fair to you." 

"Perhaps not, but we both enjoyed it nonetheless," Severus pointed out. "You were angry, but you didn't force me against my will, and..." He shrugged. "I liked the aggression." 

"Really." Lupin turned to look at Severus over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. "Well, then." With a sigh, he relaxed in Severus' arms at last, leaning against Severus and letting his head fall back against Severus' shoulder. "I mean it, though. The next time you start blowing hot and cold, _I'll_ be the one to take myself off to another island if I have to, and you'll damned well be left alone for good." 

"Fair enough." Severus let his mouth curve in an evil smirk as he slid the washcloth lower and lower. "Any other objections you care to lodge?" he asked silkily, switching the cloth to his other hand and curling his soapy fingers around Lupin's cock. 

"Not at the moment." Lupin curved one arm up and back around Severus' neck, arching his back as Severus began to stroke him slowly. "You're still a curious creature, Severus. Give me some time to puzzle you out." 

"Does that mean you want me to stop?" Severus asked, stilling his hand, and Lupin shook his head and smiled lazily. 

"You seem bent on assaulting me today, and unlike Harmony, I see no need to voice repeated protests when I don't actually mind." 

"That's a rather tepid response." Severus kept his hand still, determined to wring a more enthusiastic response out of Lupin before continuing since he had no intention of being the only one to edge out onto this particular limb. 

Lupin turned his head, making Severus shiver as his hot breath ghosted past Severus' ear. "Then I'll try some of that aggression you claim to like," he said, and Severus shivered again, imagining he heard an echo of the werewolf's growl in Lupin's voice. "You started this, and you're going to finish it. Bring me off now, Severus." He bit down on Severus' earlobe hard enough to wrench a gasp from Severus' throat. "I want you to make me come." 

Flinging the washcloth aside, Severus cupped and kneaded Lupin's balls with one hand as he began stroking Lupin's cock anew with his other, nuzzling and biting at Lupin's ear. He could feel the tension coiling in Lupin's body, the tightening of Lupin's muscles as he neared the brink; he could hear Lupin's erratic panting, and the sound set his blood on fire. Lupin rocked his hips, thrusting eagerly into Severus' fist, and Severus rocked too, grinding his cock against the cleft of Lupin's arse. Their bodies writhed in tandem, and it wasn't long before Lupin let out a sharp cry, his body stiffening - and then collapsing into bonelessness against Severus' chest. 

A bright pink flush stained Lupin's face, neck and upper chest, and Severus bent his head to feel the heat of Lupin's skin, a heat that _he_ had generated, he thought with smug satisfaction. After a moment, Lupin turned and wrapped both arms around Severus' neck, leaning heavily against him. 

"Tired now," he murmured. 

"Little wonder." Severus grasped his shoulders and pushed him under the waterfall long enough to drench his hair, ignoring his sputtered protests. A quick shampoo later, Severus gave him a little shove toward the rocks. "I brought some towels. Go and lie down while I bathe." 

"But you-" Lupin gestured vaguely downward. 

"You can reciprocate later," Severus said brusquely. "Now go!"

Severus bathed, shaved, and washed his hair quickly, thinking he might try to persuade Lupin to bring him off now that Lupin had rested a few minutes, but when he emerged from the pond, he found Lupin stretched out on a towel, still naked and fast asleep. He stared down at Lupin's sleeping form, at a loss as to whether he ought to wake Lupin up and drag him back to camp or let him sleep where he was for a while. Then he shrugged and unfurled the second towel beside Lupin, letting the sun dry him off as he lay down, stretching out beside Lupin. It had been a long night for both of them, after all, and they deserved a nap, and for the first time in his life, Severus discovered the joy of lying unabashedly naked in another person's arms. 

Over the next few days, Severus felt as if he were being studied. Lupin was most definitely _not_ walking on eggshells around him, but he did seem to spend an inordinate amount of time watching Severus, as if expecting him to do something, and Severus had the occasional mad urge to break into a song and dance routine just to make a point. 

He didn't do it, of course. For one thing, it would ruin the reputation he had carefully cultivated over the course of decades, and for another, he knew what Lupin was doing: waiting for him to backpedal. 

Which was not going to happen, because Severus wanted more sex, and the only way that was going to happen was if they were speaking to one another _and_ enjoying a certain amount of proximity to one another, a state of affairs which Severus was desirous of continuing. In fact, he found his daily commutes to and from his camp increasingly tedious, especially when he spent most of the day with Lupin anyway as well as most nights. 

He used building the grate for the top of the pit as his first excuse for loitering around Lupin's camp. Even with two of them collecting wood and lashing the poles together, it took three days to complete, although granted, it might have gone faster if they hadn't stopped every day when the sun was at its peak and returned to the shelter to get each other sticky and sweaty in a different way. 

After that, he demanded that Lupin teach him how to fish, which involved lots of time in the water with Lupin standing close to him to guide his hand while he tried to improve his aim with the fishing spear, and _that_ usually ended with sex as well. 

There was, in fact, very little they did that didn't lead to having sex, which pleased Severus' libido immensely. Severus' mind, on the other hand, was a little unsettled since it suspected his heart was about to do something stupid, or perhaps had already done so when Severus wasn't paying attention. 

The problem was that somewhere along the way, he had grown to like Lupin's company. He liked that Lupin challenged him. He liked Lupin's sense of humor. He liked just looking at Lupin and absorbing all the little details, like how Lupin's shoulders were dappled with freckles, how Lupin seemed to enjoy squishing his toes in wet sand, and how every day at sunset, Lupin became quiet and a little melancholy until Severus distracted him with food or another chapter of _Sweet Savage Storm_. 

He knew he ought to be terrified, but he wasn't - and that frightened him. He wasn't any of the things he ought to be around Remus Lupin anymore - not afraid, not guarded, not angry or bitter or spiteful. He didn't even care that he wasn't what he ought to be, not when Lupin's cock filling him slowly felt so damned good. On his hands and knees with his arse in the air or on his back with his legs spread wide - he didn't care as long as he got more. For him, that was a novel experience, and it took a few days for him to adjust to the idea that he had allowed Lupin to get close and wasn't regretting it.

At first, he tried to maintain a certain amount of distance by spending every other night with Lupin, but waking up to a hot, wet mouth around his cock versus waking up to an iguana snuggling against him really wasn't much of a competition. 

His determination to commute and to keep his distance lasted about a week before he decided to hell with it. He didn't want to sleep alone in his cave any longer, and if no one had come along to rescue them in over a month, no one was going to, which meant it no longer mattered where they - where _he_ resided. While living next to the pond meant he didn't have to trek through the jungle to fetch water, he felt hemmed in by the jungle, the thick air stifling him until he returned to the beach, where he could breathe freely again. He was ready for open spaces, and he liked being lulled to sleep by the waves and Lupin's hand stroking his back. 

It took all morning for him to pack, and while he was at it, Bingley came out to watch. 

"I'm leaving," he said, regarding Bingley somberly. "I'm going to live with Lupin at the beach. You're welcome to come along if you like." 

He didn't expect Bingley to understand, but there was a small part of him that would miss his unusual companion. Intending to offer a last, good-bye scratch, he reached out - and to his shock, Bingley shimmied up his arm to drape across his shoulders, tail coiled around his bicep. 

"I rather thought you would walk on your own if you accompanied me, but if you wish to be carried, very well," he said dryly. 

With that, he extended the handle of his suitcase and set off, Bingley clinging to his shoulders and his luggage bumping along behind him. The look on Lupin's face was priceless; it seemed that Lupin didn't know what to gape at first - the iguana or the suitcase - and in the end, he settled for a bewildered stare at Severus. 

"What's all this?" 

"I'm tired of making daily trips back and forth for things I need," Severus announced, dropping his suitcase by the shelter. He extended his arm, and Bingley ran down it, leaped onto the roof of the shelter, and disappeared. "I'm moving back here." 

Lupin's jaw dropped, but he rallied quickly. "Are you certain that's what you want to do? I recall you being quite adamant about living in the cave." 

"Are you willing to relocate to the cave with me?" Severus tipped his chin up and stared at Lupin with narrowed eyes. 

"If that's what you really wanted... yes." Lupin shrugged and smiled wryly. "It wouldn't be my first choice; I prefer it here, where it's more open, and I can be near the ocean, but I would relocate." 

Something deep within Severus relaxed, and when he spoke, his voice was strong and steady. "Yes, I'm certain this is what I want to do. The cave is entirely too damp and musty for me. I would rather be here." 

The warmth of Remus' smile spread out until his entire face glowed with its radiant light. "In that case, welcome home."

* * *

"'Storm wound his burly arm around Harmony's tiny waist as they watched the coast of Barbados disappear on the horizon. In a few weeks' time, they would be home, and they would start a new life and a new family - the newest addition was already growing in Harmony's womb - together. Harmony smiled, happier now than she ever had been before in her life, for she had ridden out the storm and tamed her wild pirate, making him hers alone forever'." Severus closed the book and tossed it aside, glancing at Remus, who lay stretched out on the towel beside his. "The end." 

"Well, you were right." Remus sat up and wound his arms around his knees, smiling sidelong at Severus. "There actually was a chapter without any sex." 

" _Two_ chapters," Severus corrected, triumph gleaming in his eyes. 

"Right, two chapters. How could I forget?" Remus chuckled and half-turned to face Severus. "That means you've won the bet, so..." He tilted his head, his expression one of curiosity as he watched Severus. "Have you thought about what you want?" 

Severus leaned back on his hands and tipped his chin up to catch the last bit of warmth from the setting sun, closing his eyes even though they were protected from the light by a pair of sunglasses. Beside him, Remus lay back down on the towels they had spread on the sand and stacked his hands beneath his head, and when Severus opened his eyes again a few minutes later, he saw Remus watching him. 

Remus always seemed to be watching him, but after Severus had announced his intentions to live on the beach, there didn't seem to be a sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop about Remus' observation. That day, Remus had helped him move all his things from the cave, and together, they had unpacked and reorganized the camp to make room for Severus; that night, Severus had found himself sandwiched between Remus and Bingley in the shelter. 

It wasn't exactly the sort of family he'd imagined for himself, but it was oddly satisfying nonetheless. 

Over the next couple of weeks, Remus continued to watch him; sometimes, Severus felt as if he was being memorized, and sometimes, he felt as if he was being devoured. Either way, he didn't mind. He liked the feel of Remus' gaze on him; it was a novel experience, one he'd never expected to have in the first place. 

The only problem with being so ridiculously content with his life, he thought, was that it left him with no idea what to demand in fulfillment of the bet. There were things he wanted, certainly - a flushing toilet and a steak as big as his head were at the top of the list - but those were impossible for anyone to give him under the circumstances. 

"I don't want anything," he said at last, peering at Remus over the top of his sunglasses. "You're off the hook." 

"What, I've spent all these weeks imagining the horrors you'd inflict on me, and it was all for nothing?" Remus gave him an incredulous look. "I thought for certain I'd signed myself away for a month of indentured servitude if I was lucky." 

Severus let out a derisive snort. "No one here thinks you're cute or funny." 

"I'll bet Bingley does." Remus grinned unrepentantly. "Anyway, I can't believe you're serious. Tell the truth: you're trying to lull me into a state of complacency, and then you'll hit me with some hideous plan you've been perfecting all this time." 

"No plan, hideous or otherwise." Severus took off his sunglasses and tossed them on top of the book so he could watch the play of light and color on the water as the sun dipped lower. "There's nothing I want." 

"I could catch fish for you." 

"You already do that."

"Well, I could do all the chores for a few days." 

"You're assuming I have any interest in sitting on my arse with nothing to occupy my time while you do all the work and wind up too exhausted to shag at the end of the day." 

"You're right." Remus nodded his agreement, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth that looked entirely too smug to Severus. "I'm not too keen on that either." 

"I thought you might not be." He glanced over at Remus with a look of fond exasperation. "There is nothing I want." 

"But surely-" 

"There is nothing I want because I already have what I want," Severus interrupted, his voice laced with annoyance at having to spell it out. 

Remus blinked, and then his smile bloomed, brightening his entire face as he sat up and reached out to enfold Severus in his arms. "You continually amaze me," he murmured, nuzzling Severus' ear tenderly, and a delicious shiver rippled down Severus' spine. "Are you sure there's nothing I could give you - perhaps right now?"

"Well..." Severus slid his hand down the length of Remus' bare chest and slipped his fingers under the waistband of Remus' shorts. "There might be something." 

It took mere moments for them to strip away each other's shorts; neither of them bothered with underpants anymore, and for that, Severus was grateful as it made baring Remus to his greedy eyes and hands that much easier. Easing him down onto the towels, Remus settled between Severus' legs, fitting his hips into the cradle of Severus' thighs and rocking slowly as he braced himself over Severus. 

Stretching out one hand, Severus cupped Remus' cheek in his palm and drew him down, brushing his lips against Remus' lightly, a soft moan escaping him when Remus came back for more, parting his lips to deepen the kiss. Sliding his fingers up to tangle in Remus' hair, Severus hooked one long leg around Remus' hips; he was in no hurry, content to match the slow undulation, letting the burn of desire build at a gradual pace. 

One kiss flowed seamlessly into another as their tongues thrust and retreated like the waves in an easy give-and-take, and Severus relaxed, giving himself over to lusty euphoria as the drugging kisses went on and on like the rocking of their bodies. The brush of Remus' cock against his, the sensual slide of sweat-slick skin - it was a slow build to desperation, to a need for more and faster. 

He slid his free hand down the length of Remus' back and clamped it on Remus' arse, pushing down as he rocked his hips up in a sharp, demanding thrust, and Remus answered with a twist of his hips that made Severus' eyes roll back in his head. On and on it went, building from moans and gasps to panting and groans that were half-litany, half-plea; on and on it went until Severus' world consisted of nothing but their writhing bodies as they pushed and strained against each other, fingers biting into each other's flesh as they sought that elusive release. 

And then with a ragged cry, Severus shattered, clinging to Remus' shoulders as if Remus was somehow his touchstone, and even as he lay limp and gasping in the aftermath, he tightened his arms around Remus' shoulders as Remus thrust against him a few minutes more, watching ecstasy suffusing Remus' face as he came, reveling in the sound of his name on Remus' lips in that sublime moment of release. 

They lay sticky and entwined until long after the sun disappeared beneath the horizon and the moon began its climb. Severus found peace in the roar of the waves and the steady rise and fall of Remus' chest beneath his ear. The rhythms of this island and of Remus' body were familiar to him now and beloved as well, and he was content. 

Two days following the next full moon, the rescue party arrived. Severus noticed the two black dots in the sky seeming to come closer, and he peered up, squinting against the sun in spite of his sunglasses, and his heart constricted when he realized they were too big to be birds. 

For one mad moment, he thought about running into the jungle and hiding until they were gone in hopes they would pass by the island, but then Remus glanced up from the fish he was scaling and followed his line of sight. 

"Is that-?" Remus' face lit up as he rose, heedless of the blood and scales on his hands. 

"Looks like it," Severus said grimly. 

Remus washed off his hands, and then they watched and waited in silence until the figures - a wizard and a witch - landed on the beach, waving cheerfully as they approached the camp. They were both wearing tee shirts with "WRC" in big red letters on the front, and they were both sun-bronzed everywhere Severus could see. 

"Hi!" The wizard flashed white teeth that would have put Lockhart to shame and held out his hand to Severus, who was closest, and Severus shook it, although he eyed them both warily. "I'm Abraham Rosenbaum from the Wizard Rescue Corps, Miami Division, but you can call me Abe," he said as he moved to greet Remus. "This is my partner, Lisa Grant." 

"Hello." Lisa shook hands with them both as well. "We're relieved to have found you at last." 

Severus didn't answer, since he didn't share the sentiment; instead, he folded his arms and faced them with neutral blankness. 

"You don't look freaked out by a couple of people showing up on broomsticks, so I guess at least one of you is a wizard?" Abe asked. 

"We both are," Remus replied. "How did you know where to find us?"

"We didn't," Lisa said with an apologetic smile. "Sorry it's taken so long, but we've had to scan each island individually, and tracking spells aren't always reliable out here. That's why it took so long, plus we've had other wrecks and disappearances to investigate. This place keeps us busy!" 

"So are you ready to go?" Abe glanced back and forth between them expectantly, but Remus glanced at Severus and shook his head. 

"Could we have a minute, please?" he asked, grasping Severus' arm and leading him off toward the beach, out of earshot. 

Severus let himself be led, holding himself stiffly as he tried to ignore the roiling of his stomach, and he refused to meet Remus' eyes, certain that things were all going to fall to shambles now. Contentment, it seemed, wasn't destined for the likes of him. 

"Look," Remus said in a low, urgent tone, still gripping Severus' arm tightly as if he was afraid Severus might bolt if he didn't. "I feel like I'm offering my head up on a platter by admitting this so bluntly, but we don't have much time, so..." He took a deep breath as if bracing himself. "If you still don't want to go back, then I'm not leaving either. I miss civilization, yes, but I don't want to leave you." He shrugged and smiled wryly. "Which I suppose means I'm choosing you over indoor plumbing, so you ought to be flattered." 

Severus stared at him, stunned into silence. Remus was willing to remain on the island for the rest of their days if Severus didn't want to return. Remus was choosing him. No one had ever chosen him before, and for a moment, Severus was certain he'd heard everything wrong. 

As tempting as it was to say yes, he wanted to stay here, there were things he missed keenly too. Magic was the main thing; he had adjusted to life with limited magic, but he didn't _like_ it. He missed the little conveniences and the challenge of brewing a complex potion, and if they went home, he could make the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus again. 

He missed soft mattresses and warm blankets and hot running water and food that didn't have to be hunted or gathered. He wanted to go home, only home was a dangerous place for them both now. And then it occurred to him...

"There isn't any reason why we have to return home," he said casually, and Remus tilted his head, obviously curious and interested in the idea. "We could find the wizards' bank in Miami, make a long distance withdrawal from Gringott's in London, and use the cash to travel for a while. The world is a large place, and I haven't seen nearly as much of it as I would like." 

Remus frowned a little and stroked his chin. "If we do this," he said slowly, "we might not be able to go home again. They would probably label us fugitives." 

"Do you really care?" Severus asked, raising one eyebrow, and a slow smile curved Remus' mouth as he shook his head. 

"No, actually, I don't." 

Their rescuers waited while they put on shirts and shoes and packed up as many clothes and toiletries as they could to sustain them during their travels, and while they worked, Severus kept an eye out for Bingley, as if Bingley could understand him when he said good-bye. But they finished the task, and Bingley hadn't so much as poked a claw out of the foliage, and Severus turned away from the camp with quiet regret. 

Their luggage was secured between Abe and Lisa's brooms with rope and a levitation spell, and Severus was about to climb on behind Lisa when Abe tapped his shoulder. 

"Looks like someone wants to wish one of you bon voyage," Abe said, grinning, and Severus glanced back at the camp - and there was Bingley, hurrying toward them as fast as his legs would carry him. 

Severus went to meet him and knelt in the sand. "We're leaving," he said somberly. 

Bingley regarded him for a moment, blinking lazily, and then suddenly, Bingley leaped onto his arm and crawled up to drape across his shoulders again. Nonplussed, Severus looked at Abe and Lisa, wondering if they would object to an extra passenger, or if there was some rule against removing creatures from their natural environment. 

Seeming intrigued, Abe approached and bent over to scratch Bingley's head, and Bingley allowed it. "I've heard living in this place affects the wildlife," he said. "I guess the little guy decided he wanted to be a wizard's familiar." 

"That isn't a problem?" Severus asked, reaching up to rest his hand lightly on Bingley's tail where it lay like a necklace around his throat. 

"Not that I know of," Abe said, straightening up. "You'll probably need to have him examined, especially if you're going to take him out of the country, but as long as he isn't carrying some nasty disease, it ought to be okay." 

Pleased, Severus stood as well and returned to where Lisa waited, already astride her broom. He had everything he needed, and he was ready to go.

* * *

**One Year Later:**

"We've been here six weeks already," Remus said as he reached across the table to steal one of Severus' pork dumplings. "That's longer than we've stayed anywhere else." 

"So it is," Severus replied, retaliating by swiping one of Remus' eggrolls. 

He wasn't surprised that six weeks had passed so quickly; what did surprise him was the fact that he wasn't eager to leave. He liked San Francisco, and after a year of globe trotting, he was growing weary of living out of his suitcase, and of late, he had felt a vague desire to find somewhere to settle permanently. The climate here was quite nice, and it was near the ocean, which was a point in its favor since Severus had grown fond of the ocean - although he didn't want to live on the beach and subsist on fish and fruit ever again. 

Shortly after they arrived, they learned that the Haight-Ashbury district contained the gateway to the wizarding district of the city, leading to an area even larger than Diagon Alley with its own residential neighborhood as well as a commercial zone. For the past six weeks, they had been renting a flat there and familiarizing themselves with the city, and it seemed to Severus that whether intentionally or not, they had been settling in, perhaps even beginning to blend in. Looking at him across the table, Severus thought that Remus looked like a Bohemian professor on break from Berkeley in his faded jeans, Grateful Dead tee shirt - a remnant of their time on the island - and glasses. 

"There was a help wanted sign in the window of the apothecary today," Severus continued in as casual a tone as he could muster. "I spoke with the manager on a lark. As it happens, they want a skilled brewer, and he said the job was mine if I wanted it. The salary he offered was rather generous."

"Really?" Remus' tone was also casual as he forked up a large bite of noodles. "I happened to notice there's a house for sale while I was walking Bingley this afternoon. Two stories, but not too big. It's in a Muggle neighborhood, but the seller's wife and daughter are both witches, so they've got some basic concealment and protection spells already in place." 

"Really." Severus took a few sips of green tea, pretending a nonchalance he was nowhere close to feeling. "How fortuitous." He placed his cup carefully on the table before looking up and meeting Remus' gaze across the table. "I don't suppose you inquired about the price." 

"With the money we have left, we could just afford a down payment, especially if we can haggle them into dropping the price a little," Remus said, and Severus could see the excitement in his eyes. "If you take the job at the apothecary and I find a job that pays reasonably well, we can do it." 

"Is that what you want?" Severus asked. 

"I do." Remus reached across the table and covered Severus' hand with his own, squeezing gently. "I like it here for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I can kiss you in public and no one cares. I could be happy here." He regarded Severus for a moment, his expression half curious and half concerned. "What about you?" 

Severus turned his hand over and curled his fingers around Remus', returning the squeeze with equal gentleness. "I like it here too." 

"Then it's settled." Remus smiled and released Severus' hand, tucking in to his dinner with gusto. 

Severus pushed a piece of bamboo shoot around his plate with his fork, thinking about something that had weighed on his mind for a while. Although Remus had never voiced any discontent, Severus often wondered if Remus ever regretted his decision to accompany Severus and embark on a vagabond life, and now that it seemed they had agreed to make their home in a place so far away from England, he had to ask. 

"Do you ever want to go home?" 

His breath caught in his throat as he watched Remus from beneath his lashes, braced for the sound of wistfulness or melancholy in Remus' voice, but instead, Remus raised his eyebrow in a blatant imitation of Severus and then gave him a peaceful little smile. 

"I _am_ home," he said, and then he turned his attention back to his lo mein, as if that was that, and the matter was settled. 

Severus blinked. Out of all the answers he thought Remus might give, that wasn't one of them, but it was the best possible answer he could have heard. He gave a quiet "hmph" and fussed over his dumplings for a moment. 

"Yes, well," he said at last, not quite meeting Remus' eyes. "So am I." 

And that, as far as he was concerned, was indeed that. 

 

-end-


End file.
